


(let's imagine the end) before we even begin

by shrdmdnssftw



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 22:44:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrdmdnssftw/pseuds/shrdmdnssftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It's nice, just the two of them in the flat, and if Zayn never brings anyone home, then that's fine, great even. Mostly, it's great because Liam has a feeling it would maybe, possibly, probably break his heart, should Zayn ever start dating.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Or, a university AU where Liam pines often, though he's not always too sure who he's pining after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(let's imagine the end) before we even begin

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 1D Big Bang.
> 
> When I started writing this, I had no idea what I was doing. This was born from a one off comment I made to a friend, got ditched in favour of another plot and then, with a couple of weeks to go, got revived into what it is now. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it.
> 
> **I am very lucky and grateful to have been partnered with[cherrycoloured](http://cherrycolouredart.tumblr.com) as part of the Big Bang! Her art that accompanies my fic can be found [here](http://cherrycoloured.livejournal.com/160138.html).**
> 
> I'd also like to thank [snuffleslove](http://snuffleslove.livejournal.com) for her beta skills and being one of many friends who put up with me as I wrote this. Thank you [badjujuboo](http://badjujuboo.livejournal.com) for helping spawn the original idea and [inventahumanity](http://inventahumanity.livejournal.com) for convincing me this wasn't terrible. The title is for you.

It’s very possible that Liam has messed up.

-

Living with the person you’re ever so slightly infatuated with usually doesn’t work out well for anyone, but Liam seriously thought he’d had it under control. It probably helps that Liam’s been fascinated by Zayn since the day he first met him, managed to avoid his feelings until they turned into something less a pot boiling over and more a slow simmer, bubbles that float up from beneath the surface.

But really, Liam _was_ fine. A month living under the same roof, and no one was dead, no personal belongings missing, and if Liam’s sometimes left without words at the sight of a just-woken Zayn, well. His flatmate didn’t really know better, did he?

The fact that Liam’s avoidance of parties (and who even knew their area had a party scene?) may have something to do with Zayn’s propensity to grind up against a girl, or guy, or both, remains mostly unsaid. Even Louis, who has delighted in poking fun at Liam since the sixth form, no longer mentions how impossibly gone he is.

(Liam chooses to ignore the fact that Louis stopped because it’s “no longer funny, just a little bit sad.”)

Occasionally, Harry will transpire with Zayn to drag Liam out to a party, call him out on the fact that Liam and Louis had snuck out many times over the course of their college years, and that Louis has the drunken photos to prove it. Liam promptly drags himself back in and maybe wallows in his solitude and a mug of hot cocoa.

One time, Louis tried to spike the mug, coming over after Liam’s text of _:( night in_. Liam caught him though, made Louis stay there as punishment and watch Love Actually with him. Liam figures there are some perks to living near your childhood friend and torment – an endless supply of pity ice-cream is one of them.

It helps that Zayn doesn’t _do_ long-term relationships, or at least, hasn’t been in one since he met Liam. This is, of course, discounting the way they _had_ met, when Liam was forced to kick Zayn and Harry out of the bookstore where he worked, Zayn trying very loudly to convince his friend that his recent split was “amicable, really, Harry, if you could _please_ let it drop.”

Liam hadn’t really planned on getting to know Zayn after that incident, figured it best if he stayed away from people that were asked to leave his workplace, but of course, he hadn’t factored in Harry’s demands to apologise, or to buy him a drink to compensate for Liam’s trouble. And a trip to the coffee shop where Harry was employed turned into hanging out there more often, turned into texting, which eventually turned into being _friends_ with Zayn and Harry.

But it’s okay, and completely under his control, and if Liam spends most of his cleaning time actually flipping through the bunches of photos that Zayn leaves lying around, their group in various campus buildings over the past few years well, that’s just reminiscing, not pining.

It's nice, just the two of them in the flat, and if Zayn never brings anyone home, then that's fine, great even. Mostly, it's great because Liam has a feeling it would maybe, possibly, probably break his heart, should Zayn ever start dating.

-

Liam likes to call Louis, every now and again; his texts will usually get a reply with too many question marks (and Liam's spelling isn’t even that bad). Louis will pick up, ostensibly so that Liam will not waste away waiting for his reply, but really, because it’s nice to know neither of them are suffering alone while their friends are on a night out.

Liam’s never quite sure what Louis’ excuse is – some weeks, it’s actually that he’s not made a dent in the mountain of required reading he tends to have for his Early Education course, other weeks, Liam swears he can hear One Tree Hill playing in the background. Whatever the reason, Liam always finds Louis at home, ready to listen to Liam extol the virtues of Zayn.

Except this week. Apparently, this week, being the very first week of semester, means that Louis picks up and Liam hears the buzz of the bar behind him.

“Liam! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Louis’ voice is loud, even for his standards, and Liam finds himself putting the phone on speaker, placing it down on the coffee table in the living room as he sits himself down on the couch. The flat he shares with Zayn is verging on what some would call cramped, but what Liam refers to as cozy.

It’s good for a place so close to campus, at the price that they’re renting it, and neither Liam nor Zayn have much personal stuff to clutter the spaces, mainly a photo here or a time table there, sometimes a note on the fridge. Liam insisted on sharing the space on his bookshelf, so one wall of their living room is filled with Liam’s movies and small collection of books, Zayn’s records and slightly larger anthology of novels.

It’s something like home. He settles down into the pillows, grateful that the night isn’t too hot. “What, I can’t call up the friend I love most?”

Louis laughs. “You sure that’s me then, mate?”

“Fuck off,” Liam replies, and he’s suddenly glad for the fact that Louis can’t see his flush. “Just wanted to say hi, is all.”

Usually calling Louis is a salve to his somewhat lonely Friday nights, a way of forgetting that he _can_ go out, he’s just not usually willing to, not if Zayn's there. Tonight, it only makes the space seem that much emptier.

“He’s here, you know,” and Louis’ voice is lower then, obviously moving away from the source of most of the noise. “Harry and him both. Just saw them.”

“Tell them I say hi, then,” Liam says and he prides himself on not sounding too annoyed.

“Or you could, yourself. Make an appearance. Fresh start to the year, and all.”

Liam’s not sure what the worst part of it is – the fact that Louis' coercing him to leave the flat, or the fact that he’s actually considering it.

It also goes to show how well they know each other when Louis hangs up abruptly and a text comes through not ten seconds later, the bar’s address sent to Liam. He rues the fact that Louis can sense the smallest chink in Liam’s armour, and the fact that he lets Louis through.

He’s dressed decently enough, Liam figures, and the bar isn’t ten minutes from the flat, so he picks up his wallet and keys and tucks his phone into his pocket. Shrugging on a black cardigan over his shirt, Liam takes one last look into the flat before he leaves. It can’t be the worst thing, to go out tonight.

Zayn’s not thrown himself into a relationship in the years that Liam’s known him, more likely to hang out casually, or go on a string of dates, each person different from the next. And it’s not even in the way that Zayn _wants_ to go out a lot, but rather that, as Louis so kindly pointed out, there’s no one who _doesn’t_ fall slightly in love with Zayn.

There’s nothing to indicate that this pattern won’t break tonight, nothing to say Zayn won’t come home alone as he's done during the past summer, their first month renting together, and Liam figures that if the illusion that Zayn’s single still stands, then tonight could even be fun.

By the time he reaches the bar, the night has cooled nicely, and Liam pulls his sleeves down over his arms. Entering the bar, he keeps an eye out for Louis, texts him a _here now_ and looks around for a familiar face.

Eight minutes of aimless wandering earn him a _look_ from the bar staff and Liam figures he might as well order a coke to start with, earning him _another_ look from the bartender. He checks his phone again while he waits and sees he has a text from Louis.

He’s obviously slightly drunker than when Liam’d left the flat, if the _lets play where’s wallyy!_ is any indication. Getting his drink, Liam smiles a thank you, and keeps his eyes open for any person in brightly coloured trousers. Once upon a time, Louis’d sported stripes too, making it pretty easy to spot him on a night out, but then last summer he’d declared them “very last season”, making Liam’s task tonight a bit more difficult.

Liam’s so absorbed in looking for Louis, in fact, that he almost misses the guy in front of him, has to loop a hand around his arm to make sure he and his drink don’t tip over.

Laughing, the guy manages to upright himself and gestures to Liam with his glass. Liam watches as the liquid sloshes dangerously close to the lip. He steadies himself against Liam with his other hand, and it’s possibly Liam’s imagination, but there’s a squeeze of a muscle that accompanies the guy’s smile.

“’s the same colour as your shirt,” he says with a laugh and Liam looks down to see – it actually is. He’s not quite sure who drinks red wine at a bar, or at least, at one that’s not attached to a five star hotel.

“Suppose it is,” Liam replies, and he lifts the guy’s hand gently from where it’s drifted up his arm, onto his shoulder.

“It looks good on you,” he says but when Liam’s reply is just to smile, he shrugs, no harm done. “If you're not interested, then.”

As he walks off, Liam’s manners almost force a “Have a good night!” out of him, before he remembers that, yeah, he’s pretty sure that’s not required etiquette any more.

And of course, almost twenty minutes by himself mean that in the next few seconds, Louis, Harry _and_ Zayn all manage to spot him, head over to the bar with cheers and sloppy kisses (the latter mostly from Louis).

“Fancy seeing you out here,” Harry exclaims.

Liam jerks his head towards Louis, “Friends, you know.”

Harry smiles dopily. “Yeah, I suppose. But what’re Zayn and I then? We ask you out all the time! And I didn’t even know you were here until Zayn saw you chatting up that guy.”

Zayn shrugs his hello and Liam pulls a face.

“Wasn’t really chatting him up,” Liam says and Louis laughs.

“Yeah, you know our Liam, he’s just that nice to everyone.”

He ruffles Liam’s hair, fingers making a mess of the half-arsed quiff. Once upon a time, he’d had a head full of curls, almost to rival Harry’s, but an incident in second year had Liam shave it all off. Mostly, it’s grown back, but Liam still misses having one less body part for Louis and Harry to mess with.

“What’re you drinking then?” Harry asks, and he nods at Liam’s glass. “Gonna buy another round for us guys, and you’re joining us, right?”

Liam shoots a look at Louis, since he hadn’t mentioned he was out _with_ Harry and Zayn, but he’s avoiding Liam’s eye, face now tucked into Harry’s neck.

Harry’s still looking inquisitively at Liam, ready to flag down the bartender, so Liam gives up on berating Louis.

“Just a coke, thanks,” Liam replies.

“Not drinking then?” asks Zayn, the first words he’s said since they’d found Liam, and Liam shakes his head.

“Don’t really feel like it.”

Zayn hums, steps closer to Liam so that they can talk better over the noise of the bar, of Harry ordering their drinks, and Louis trying to distract him. He can smell Zayn’s cologne, not quite sweated off yet, sharp and distinct, and Liam has to stop himself from breathing in too obviously.

“Makes sense, I guess. Didn’t really expect to see you out.” Zayn smiles as he says it, like it’s a pleasant surprise.

“Harry said,” Liam replies. “And to be honest, neither did I. But who can really say no to Louis?”

“Dunno, Harry seems to be managing it.”

Liam turns to look back at Harry and Louis, finding Louis slumped over Harry’s form, tucking his hands into Harry’s pockets. It’s not exactly _new_ or anything, since Louis’ handsy with the best of them, just that he’s usually not so blatant about it. Harry, on the other hand, is taking it in his stride, smiling and flirting with the bartender like it’s no big deal.

“Hey, so, we’re over here with a few of the lads,” Zayn says, and nods towards a table at the back. “You’re joining us, yeah? Want you to meet some of our friends.”

And there’s no real way for Liam to say no to that, no reason that he _shouldn’t_ hang out with Zayn’s friends. He’ll be the first to admit that he doesn’t have many, mostly Harry and Louis and Zayn, plus a couple of acquaintances, people from classes, or that girl who always serves him at the campus library. Liam figures he might as well try meeting new people, even if he’s already been attending the university for two years. Better late than never, and all.

Glancing behind him to check that Harry and Louis are good to carry the drinks, Liam follows Zayn through the crowd, makes sure he has an eye on his friend’s back. When they reach the table, it’s not as full as Liam expects, a handful of guys and girls. Some of them even look familiar, and Liam nods at a girl he recognises from his Media Studies lectures, smiles as best he can at everyone in the dim light.

“Harry’ll be back in a sec with the drinks,” Zayn tells the table at large, settling into a seat. He pats the spot next to him in invitation and Liam moves to sit down.

“Oh and this is my flatmate Liam, everyone. He doesn’t usually come out, so feel privileged.”

Liam flushes a little at that, never quite used to the ribbing that goes on among all of them, but taking it in his stride nonetheless. He waves, small and a little awkwardly, but most of the table are absorbed in their own conversations. The guy next to Zayn, though, he reaches across Zayn’s body to offer Liam a hand to shake.

“Hey, ‘m Josh, nice to meet you!” He’s got one of those contagious smiles, ones which you have to share and Liam finds himself smiling brightly as he takes Josh’s hand.

“Liam,” Liam repeats. “And I swear, I’m not as boring as Zayn’s making me sound.”

“Nah, he’s more,” Zayn cuts in. “But it’s why we love him.”

“Oi, you’re the one who chose to live with _me_ ,” retorts Liam, and Josh laughs.

“You two get along well then?”

“He’s okay,” Liam replies. “How do you know Zayn?”

Zayn settles back in his seat, so that Josh and Liam don’t have to lean forward so much to talk, and watches them.

“Didn’t really, not until a couple of weeks ago. My mates are in the same music comp course as Harry, Harry invited us to a party, and well. Here we are.”

Josh’s got this expression on his face, a mix of confusion and happiness at being dragged into a friendship so easily, and Liam laughs.

“Yeah, I know how that feels. Pretty sure I barely knew anyone here, but then one day I was working and this guy,” a nod towards Zayn, “and Harry started arguing so loudly, I had to kick them out before my manager came out to do it himself.”

“Well, aren’t you a good guy then,” Josh says.

“Probably more of a meddler,” admits Liam. “But it’s gotten me some pretty good friends.”

There’s a lull in the conversation and Liam lets the sound of the bar’s music, low in the background, wash over them. The rest of the table seem nice enough, but very coupled off. Liam’s not quite sure how it works for Zayn or Harry then, since both are kind of perpetually single, or for Louis, who seems to latch onto anyone, how it is that they don’t feel left out, but he figures it’s probably not always like this.

“So you study music comp too then?” Liam finds himself asking, and Josh laughs.

“No way, mate, way too lazy for that. I actually play in a band, drums. And when I’m not doing that, I’m behind the till at Tesco’s.”

“Josh leads a very rock and roll lifestyle,” Zayn says, startling Liam. He wasn’t even sure Zayn was paying attention to what they were saying, but apparently so.

“We all do, here,” Harry says as he walks up to the table, catching the tail end of Zayn’s sentence.

“Drinks!” Louis cries, holding only two cups compared to Harry’s completely full hands.

He places one in front of Liam carefully. “For our designated driver tonight.”

“Thanks, Lou,” Liam says, torn between amusement and embarrassment.

“You drive then?” Josh says, and Liam shakes his head.

“Just don’t really feel like drinking tonight.”

“Fair enough then, mate,” replies Josh and he reaches over to grab a beer off Harry. “So long as you don’t mind...”

Liam shakes his head again, “Of course not.”

He finds himself smiling at Josh, enjoying the night a lot more than he expected to, when Louis flops himself over Liam, half sat in his lap.

“Getting to know Josh then, are we?” Louis asks and Liam shrugs.

“Easier than trying to talk across the table, yeah?”

Louis leans towards Josh, and stages whispers conspiratorially, “Our Liam doesn’t really flirt much, so be flattered.”

Liam’s halfway through a sip of his coke, but sputters at Louis’ words, manages to spit up a little over Zayn’s lap.

“He’s very attractive, see,” Louis says, and Liam flaps at him with his hands, makes him move away.

“I’m not- that’s not- Louis’ just- ” Liam starts saying but then Josh is laughing, and Zayn is pulling out a serviette out of somewhere.

“’S alright, Liam, I know you’re not,” Josh says, and Liam almost sighs with relief. He’s not _used_ to this, whatever Louis’ doing, because usually he’ll just let Liam talk to others in peace. He turns to examine the mess he’s made of Zayn, feels bad for ruining his jeans because he _knows_ Zayn doesn’t like to wash them much, something about fading the fabric.

“Here,” Liam says and he reaches over to grab the serviette before he realises that he’s all but grabbing at Zayn’s crotch. The thought makes him flush red, and he drops the tissue.

“Ah yeah,” Josh says, cutting into the moment. “Best let Zayn take care of that himself.”

“Thanks mate,” Zayn says to Liam, and his smile says there are no hard feelings.

“You’re just all over the boys tonight, aren’t you Li?”

And Liam wants to beg Louis to shut up, or to just let him be, but he knows that it’ll only make things worse. With a sigh, he shifts so that Louis’ actually seated somewhat comfortably on his lap and turns to face Zayn and Josh again.

Noticing Zayn’s empty glass, he nods at it. “Having another one?”

“Think ‘m alright,” Zayn says. “Not too good with my drinks, not after last week.”

Josh laughs at that and Zayn starts to look a little embarrassed.

“What happened last week?” Liam asks and Louis says his answer into Liam’s side.

“Zayn here decided,” he yawns, pausing in his speech. “Decided it was a good idea to go up against me and Niall in a drinking competition.”

“And I’m never doing that again,” Zayn says. “You can hold your liquor like anything.”

Liam laughs, and says, “God, you should’ve seen Louis back in college, pretty sure his mum never caught on to him being drunk, but only because he acted it most of the time anyway.”

“Niall’s almost as good as me, Li, you should meet him.”

“Haven’t you met Niall then?” Josh asks Liam and he shakes his head.

“Should I have?” And he feels a bit out of the loop for not always going out with the others, but it’s easier to avoid mishaps this way.

“Dunno, really. He only transferred in from Ireland this semester.”

Taking a sip from his drink, Josh smiles. “’s a good mate of mine too, met him through someone he played guitar with, and pretty much got stuck with him."

“Cool,” Liam says. “Sounds like a nice guy.”

“Yeah, he is,” Zayn says and Liam smiles. “You should come out more often though, maybe you’ll see him.”

“Maybe,” replies Liam. On his shoulder, Louis’ all but snoring away already, and Liam looks down to see that, somehow, he’s already finished his second coke.

Across the table, Harry’s got his phone out, texting someone or other, and somehow is still keeping up with the conversations around him. He makes eye contact with Liam and smiles, a _hope you’re having fun, yeah?_ and Liam thinks it might be okay, nights like this.

“Oh hey, but you like music, right?” Josh asks and Zayn snorts.

“Pretty sure if his heart wasn’t already set on sports and journalism, our Liam here’d be studying music. And be just as good at it too.”

“Shut up, Zayn,” Liam says, but he can’t help but flush a little at the words. Zayn nudges against him good-naturedly. “Yeah, I’m pretty into it, I guess.”

“Awesome,” replies Josh. “My mates and I kind of have a gig next week and, well, we’re trying to get as many people there as possible. Owner of the place said he might hire us again, if we’re good for the business. So what d’you say, you wanna come?”

And the thing is, Liam already can tell Zayn will be there, that there’ll be a dancefloor or moshpit or something that he can’t avoid, not like tonight. Liam knows that he’ll probably have to watch Zayn awkwardly flirt, and somehow pull it off, or god forbid, have to try and flirt himself. But Josh seems like a nice guy, friendly enough, and Liam figures it’ll just be rude if he says no.

“Yeah, sure. Is there an address, or?” Liam trails off and Josh smiles.

“Of course, here, um,” he holds out his phone and Liam figures out what he means, types in his own number into Josh’s phone. “I’ll send you a text on Friday, since the gig’s on Saturday. Should be good fun.”

“Sounds like it,” Liam says, and he has a feeling that he means it.

When he reaches over to pass Josh’s phone back, Louis almost falls off his lap, and Liam tucks his arms under Louis’ to make sure he doesn’t fall. Louis snuffles into the side of Liam’s neck and he realises he has a reason to go home right now, here. It’s late enough, he thinks.

“Should probably take this guy home now,” he says to the group at large and at his voice, Harry looks up from his screen.

“What, leaving already?” he says. If Liam didn’t have good puppy dog eyes himself, the look on Harry’s face might’ve convinced him to stay, but instead, he just smiles softly at Harry.

“Yeah, don’t want Louis dragging you all down, seems like you’ve still got a long night ahead.”

“No, stay,” Harry whines and Liam laughs.

Grabbing Louis, who’s now slightly awake, just enough to move about, Liam apologises once more. “Sorry, Harry. But I promise I’ll see you next time, yeah?”

“Fine,” grumbles Harry, and Liam smiles. He’s almost got Louis out of the area now, arm under his shoulders and resting all his weight on Liam’s body.

“Hey,” Zayn says, just as Liam’s about to leave. He tugs on Liam’s sleeve so that he has to stop. “I’ll see you at home, yeah?”

And the smile on his face, it’s something that Liam’s breath can’t help but hitch at, even as Louis slumps further.

“’course,” Liam replies, and it’s like the sound has cut out from around them. “See you then.”

Zayn lets got of Liam’s sleeve, and then he’s pulling away, and it’s like the sound all rushes in at once: Josh saying goodbye, and the chatter of conversations, the people he didn’t even introduce himself to yet.

Weaving their way through the crowd and out the door, Liam finds himself shifting into Louis’ body, and despite the extra heat, he just finds it comforting. It’s not too hard to get to Louis’ place from his, and Liam’s already got a spare key on his ring, so he lets Louis basically sleep walk on the way back.

When it looks like he’s really flagging, Liam pauses for a second, pops Louis down onto a low running brick wall, and turns so that his back is to Louis.

“Really?” Louis mutters, and it’s a little worn out, but also very fond, and a bit surprised.

“Yes, really,” replies Liam. “Now hop on before I change my mind.”

And that’s how Liam finds himself on a Friday night, giving Louis a piggyback as he delivers him back home. They’re inside the door and Liam’s got Louis stood in the bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth, before he even thinks to ask.

“Why’re you so worn out anyway?”

Liam’s leaning on the doorway, making sure that Louis spits out all the toothpaste and rinses properly. He’s already got a glass of water on Louis’ bedside table, and paracetamol besides but it doesn’t hurt to keep an eye out.

“Ha-ee iff ha- t kee uh wiff,” mumbles Louis around his toothbrush.

“What was that?” Liam asks again. “And wait till you’re done before answering, maybe.”

Swishing the water around in his mouth, Louis gargles and spits before he speaks again. “Harry’s hard to keep up with, I said. Boy’s too full of energy for his own good.”

“Aren’t you usually full of energy?” Liam replies and Louis shrugs.

He rifles through his wardrobe, shedding his clothes unselfconsciously and it’s Liam who finds himself looking away. Not that it’s anything he hasn’t seen before, but Liam likes to pretend there are some boundaries left between the two of them.

“Yeah, I guess,” Louis says, stretching as he tugs off his t-shirt. He pulls off his jeans with a lot less effort than Liam’d expect, and tugs on a pair of sweats that may or may not have been Liam’s at some point. “But I’m getting on in my years.”

He yawns. “Spritely young thing, Harry is. Keeps me on my toes at least. Woke me up at half six with demands to go walking.”

Liam wants to laugh, because Louis’ not usually the type to do anything before 8AM but apparently, if it’s _Harry_.

“Sounds like he just wants to spend time with you, Lou,” Liam says instead.

“D’you think?” Louis asks, settling into his bed. He pats the bedsheets next to him, and invitation for Liam to crawl in and share stories like they would’ve when they were younger. Liam shakes his head, no, though, thinks about how he wants to be home before Zayn comes back, alone or with someone on his arm.

“’course I do,” Liam replies. “You two are great together, you know. Just gotta remember that.”

Louis smiles and snuggles into his blankets a little more. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess we are.”

Liam hopes that Louis figures it out soon, that what he and Harry are flirting over isn’t just playing any more, that they’ll sort their shit out a lot faster than Liam ever has. With the way that the two collide, often and with large reactions, Liam thinks that they will.

“G’night Lou,” says Liam, walking to the door. “I’ll lock the door on my way out, yeah? Have some water and some sleep.”

“Night,” is all Louis says in response, and Liam leaves the flat with a smile.

-

Sometimes Liam thinks his days are mundane. He supposes it could be worse – he could have a _really_ boring job, or not be able to afford the classes he goes to. As it is, though, Liam finds himself trudging between the flat and classes, classes and his work, work and the flat, or variations thereupon. It’s part of the reason he doesn’t usually go out, really – he figures that with a life that’s so clockwork, not many people would be interested in what he has to say.

He’s so disused to it, in fact, that he almost forgets his promise to Josh, that he’d attend the show, until Zayn brings it up over breakfast.

The two of them don’t make a habit of eating together, not with how Zayn is even worse than Louis at waking up, but when their schedules align, Liam will always toast another few slices of fruit bread and Zayn will work on starting their tea.

Zayn’s got his phone out, and Liam finds himself rereading the booklist he printed out, checking that he’s actually got all that he needs for this year. Last semester, he’d forgotten to get a text for his classes, didn’t realise until the fifth week and spent a good month or so tracking down a copy that was the right edition and wouldn’t cost him an arm and a leg. By the time he got one, the class had moved on from the book, and he’d spent nearly as much on the text as he had photocopying pages from his classmates'.

He bites into the toast, using his right hand for food and his left for the paper, in an attempt to avoid butter smudges on the list. Liam is pretty sure he’s got everything this time around and smiles, satisfied, at the sheet. Popping the crust back down on his plate, he moves to throw them in the bin then wash his hands and the dishes.

When he’s at the sink, he hears Zayn’s phone beep, and the noises of him checking the text. It’s fascinating, in a way, how well he knows the sounds of them living together. Even in the short span of the past summer, Liam’s subconciously memorised the way that Zayn types, anxious and fast, like if he doesn’t respond immediately, the other person won’t reply at all. Or, the way that Zayn will nap, his breaths going deeper, but not as slow or as stedy as when he’s sleeping. Liam knows the way that Zayn will shuffle around in the morning and knows the soft thud of his door shutting late at night.

He wants to think that Zayn knows the same, the way that Liam will always jingle with the sound of his keys in his pocket. The click of his pen when Liam fills out the crossword in the Sunday paper they get delivered. It’d be nice, he thinks.

“Josh wants to know if you’re still okay for the gig on Saturday,” says Zayn, interrupting Liam’s thoughts.

“He couldn’t text me directly?” asks Liam and he wrinkles his brow. It’s entirely possible that he typed his number in wrong but he hadn’t even touched a drop on Friday.

“Well, actually, he asked if we were, but I’m already set on going so.” Zayn trails off.

“Are we going together then?” Liam says, trying to make it nonchalant.

He finishes washing his plate, sets it in the rack and dries his hands on a tea towel. Turning around, he sees Zayn shrug.

“I dunno, I guess? If you still wanna. It’s just. We never really go places together, have you noticed?”

“Really?” Liam says, and he hopes to whoever’s listening that Zayn doesn’t hear how unsteady his voice is.

“Yeah,” Zayn replies. “Like, you’ve gone with Harry and me, and Lou and me, and all three of us even, but we’ve never done anything like. Just us two. Flatmates and all.”

“Ah, I guess I never noticed.” He moves to sit back down at the table, watches as Zayn finishes off his toast. “I’ll go, yeah. Tell Josh I will.”

Zayn smiles, looks up from his phone. “It’ll be fun, yeah?”

“Of course,” Liam says and he hopes it will. He’d gone out last week and nothing’d gone wrong, so maybe it’s all been in his head.

Before he can say much else, his phone beeps on the counter, a reminder that he’s got class in half an hour.

“Gotta go, then,” Liam says and Zayn nods.

“I’ll see you tonight then? We can get take out?”

And usually Liam’s job, working late nights at possibly the only odd hours bookstore in the area, means that he can’t go out for dinner but-

“My shift got cancelled, so I guess so,” he says. Liam ignores the flipping of his stomach when Zayn smiles back at him, pushes it down alongside the thoughts of more dinners with Zayn, a progression from what they have now into something more. He tries to ignore the hope that has started up, because he knows that even his luck can’t counter that.

-

Josh does end up texting Liam after all, a _The Prince at 9:30 bt u can come earlier, if zayn hasn’t already said :)_ and Liam replies with a _thnx c u then_. He’s not entirely sure what to wear to a gig, has thoughts of calling up Louis to check.

Before he can even reach the phone though, it starts ringing, and caller ID says that Louis’ one step ahead of him.

“Ready for your big night, Li?” Louis asks and he sounds a lot happier than he usually would for teasing Liam.

“I have no idea what to wear,” he replies and Louis sighs.

“What would you do without me?” and a second voice from the other end adds, “A lot!”

Liam realises that Louis’ not alone, he and Harry probably watching another horrible movie that Louis picked _for_ how bad it is.

“What Harry said,” and he puts the phone on speaker so he can search his wardrobe at the same time.

“Both of you shut it,” Louis snaps. “I’m trying to _help_ here and this is what I get? I should’ve called Zayn.”

Liam knows it’s just dramatics, so he continues to try and find an outfit that doesn’t scream “I have no social life” and maybe does say “please don’t punch me.” He’s not entirely sure of the music Josh plays, but knowing Zayn’s attending means that it could be anything from hip hop and R&B to heavy rock.

Louis seems to have worn himself out speaking or Harry has possibly tickled him so he’s stopped, but in any case, Liam takes the break in noise as a chance to actually ask Louis’ advice.

“The button up or the grey t-shirt?”

“Button up.”

“T-shirt,” says Harry over Louis. “Shows off your tattoos. And your build.”

Liam smiles and takes the shirt off of its hanger. Pulling his head through, he checks that it looks alright, a dark grey that is slim fitted.

“Oi,” Louis voice comes through on the speaker. “What’re you doing looking at Liam’s build?”

“Why aren’t you?” Harry replies and Liam almost wants to shut them off, hang up so that he doesn’t feel the lack of banter that he has with Zayn.

“Guys, come on,” Liam says instead and he picks the phone up off his bed. “Cologne or?”

“Definitely,” Louis sniffs. “Wouldn’t want you smelling gross. Makes for a terrible first impression.”

Spraying himself, then putting down the bottle, Liam smiles. He cleans up alright, if he can say so.

“Never know who you’ll meet,” Louis continues. “Not that you’ll meet someone, necessarily! But not that I’m saying you can’t! And I’m not saying you can’t pick someone up normally but-“

“’s alright Louis, I get it,” Liam says, placating him. Checking his watch, he realises that he and Zayn need to get going soon if they want to make it in time for sound check.

“Gotta go now, okay? Tell Harry I say bye.”

In the background of the call, he hears Harry yell, “Bye Liam!”

“See you,” Louis says. “Have fun, okay?”

Liam laughs, and nods. “Yes, Mum, I will.”

“I just want you to be good, is all. To be okay,” replies Louis.

“I will,” Liam reassures him. “But I actually have to get off the phone in order to go places, you know.”

The resulting sigh from Louis is resigned. “I know. Have fun.”

“You too,” says Liam. “With Harry over and all.”

“I’m hanging up, goodbye,” comes Louis’ short reply and Liam laughs.

Tucking his phone into his pocket, next to his keys, and slipping his wallet into his back pocket, Liam figures he’ll go and check on Zayn, make sure they’re ready to go.

Across the hall, his door is shut, and Liam knocks once before testing the handle.

Zayn calls out, “It’s open!”

Liam twists the handle to open the door and is greeted with the sight of Zayn’s back, long and tan, narrow waist and hips in jeans, as he slides a shirt on. Swallowing against his suddenly dry throat, Liam coughs once and Zayn turns around.

“Hey, Li, you’re ready then?”

“When you are,” Liam replies and Zayn smiles.

He’s got dark jeans on, almost black, and his shirt is half-dyed, like an art experiment gone wrong. For once, Zayn’s let his hair down and he should look dishevelled, messy with a five o’clock shadow but Liam thinks he looks _good_.

“Great,” Liam remembers to say, and he holds the door open for Zayn, waits for him to pass through before walking out of the flat after him.

-

Josh greets them hurriedly, looks torn between two places and Liam’s urges to help take over, knock out his lack of social skills.

“Our guitarist hasn’t turned up for the past two practices, and we can’t afford it to happen again, so I’ve called in Niall for a favour,” Josh explains as they follow him to the back of the pub. “Only problem is he’s not got an amp, so we needed to pick up one, but it’s still out in the alley, and I don’t have time to haul it in, ‘cause I gotta set up my drums and- ”

“I’ll get it,” Liam interrupts and Josh looks over with a bright smile.

“Christ, that’d be great, would you?”

“No problem,” Liam reassures him and Josh points to a side door.

“It’s out there, if you wanna fetch it, thanks Liam.”

Liam nods and walks over to the door, remembering that Zayn’s with him at the last moment and turning to face him.

“Sure you don’t wanna stay in here? Won’t take long.”

“Don’t be stupid, Liam, if it won’t take long, ‘course I’ll follow. Besides, I can probably lend a hand too.” Zayn says it all with a crooked smile on his face, one that Liam can’t seem to refuse and so he pushes the door, walks in front of Zayn to find a van in the alley, back doors already open with the gear in sight.

Liam nods to the other guys in the van, people lifting the other amps and says that he’s here to lend a hand. They all seem to be more than happy to have the help and before he knows it, Liam finds his arms full of an amp. The time passes quickly and he sees Zayn at one point, twisted cords in his hands as he walks over to the set up.

When he’s brought in what’s left, smiling at the guys in Josh’s band, or so he assumes, Liam finds himself having sweated a bit through his shirt. He probably looks gross, he realises and, well, there goes all the work he put into his appearance.

Making his way over to where Zayn’s chatting with some of the guys, Liam waves a hello.

“Oh, yeah, guys, this is Liam,” Zayn introduces him. “Liam, this is Sandy, Jon, you already know Josh,” he smiles at Liam and Liam nods, “and this is Niall, who just got here.”

Niall’s stood closest to Zayn, has a beer in one hand, the other shoved into his pocket. Liam thinks that, had he had a chance to imagine what Niall’d look like, it wouldn’t be this. The guy has braces, clear but still visible in his wide smile and his “hey” is tinged with a stronger accent than Liam had expected. He’s got a snapback on, backwards over his hair, and dark roots are showing from underneath the blonde. The sneakers he’s wearing wouldn’t look out of place in a street wear store. Niall is- he’s attractive, Liam will admit that, if not particularly Liam’s speed, and he seems like a fun guy. He moves and slings an arm around Josh, ducks when the other guy tries to mess up his hair.

“Heard a bit about you,” Liam says to Niall and it gets his attention. Leaving Josh to talk to the other guys in the band, Niall turns his smile on Liam.

“Did you? Good things, I guess?”

Liam finds himself liking Niall’s accent, the way his tongue rolls around the words in his mouth.

“Horrible things,” Zayn says and he puts an arm around Liam’s shoulders. “Told him the worst about you.”

Niall laughs, pushes at Zayn’s shoulder. “Oh, fuck off, then.”

“Good things,” Liam says and smiles at Niall. “Louis said you’re a good drinker, and coming from him, that’s a strong compliment.”

“Love Lou,” says Niall, nodding his head. “Good bloke.”

Before they can talk any more, Josh taps Niall on the shoulder, indicates that they’re about to go on.

“Well, that’s me then,” Niall says. “But you’re sticking around, right?”

Liam’s not sure who the question’s directed at but he nods anyway, Zayn mirroring him.

“Cool, we can talk later. Enjoy the show then.”

And then Niall’s off, picking up his guitar as he goes on stage and slinging the strap over his shoulder. Liam doesn’t realise his eyes are still fixated on the band until Zayn tugs at him, pulls him away from the stage and towards the bar.

“A drink, yeah?” he asks as they walk. “You look hot.”

Zayn flushes red, like he’s realised what he said, and backtracks. “Like, you lifted... stuff.”

Liam laughs a little awkwardly, but the smile Zayn returns is enough to bring the situation back to normal.

“I guess I’ll have a drink, yeah. Beer? Just whatever you’ve got on tap.” The last part, Liam directs to the bartender and he turns to get Zayn’s order as well.

When he pulls out his wallet to pay though, Zayn beats him to it, puts down some bills on the bar.

“My treat, since I forced you out and all,” says Zayn and if Liam didn’t know better, it’d feel like a date.

It’s not, though, he can tell it’s not, because Zayn does stuff like that for _all_ of them, would for any of their friends. Probably has for Niall and Josh, considering the way that he seems comfortable around them all, and it’s not like Zayn can’t afford to.

When his drink is passed over, Liam just says thanks, smiles at both the bartender and Zayn.

“C’mon,” Zayn says and he’s pulling on Liam’s arm. “Let’s try and get a table near the stage.”

The pub is set out nicely, a small open space in front of the stage, but mostly high tables around the edges, so people can lean and have a place to put their drinks down. From where they are, off to the side, they’ve got a clear view of Niall who somehow spots them through the bright lights that are directed at the stage. Giving them a nod, he looks down at his guitar as he tunes it a last time.

“They any good?” Liam finally remembers to ask Zayn and Zayn smiles.

“’course they are. Wouldn’t bring you along if they weren’t.”

Liam nods and listens as Josh counts them in. It takes him awhile to realise there’s no singer set up, only to figure out that Josh is the one that’s singing, a mic hooked up so that it catches his voice as he plays. He takes a drink from his beer, and watches the band leaning back against the table, occasionally looking at Zayn out the corner of his eye.

“Didn’t know Josh could sing,” Liam says after they play through their first song. The music is fast and loud, and Liam’s not sure if he likes it yet, but it’s clear that _they_ like it, if the way Niall’s throwing himself into the guitar is any indication.

The bass is heavy and Liam can see how their bassist (Sandy, he thinks), is constantly making eye contact with Josh, making sure they keep in time. It reminds Liam of the way that Louis will always make eye contact with Liam, when they’re on a night out, or if they’re just hanging around for lunch; make sure that everything is running smoothly.

He realises he hasn’t checked his phone since they came in, and it might be a bit rude, but Liam takes it out anyway, sees a text from Louis checking that _everything’s ok?_

Texting back quickly, he writes _y. will txt you l8r yeah?_ Looking up, he sees Zayn staring at him inquisitively and he tucks the phone away, says, “Just Lou.”

“He and Harry ‘hanging out’ again?” Zayn says with a smile.

He has to lean close to talk to Liam over the music and Liam’s suddenly aware of just how hot it is in the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Yeah,” Liam replies. “Still sorting their shit out, I think.”

Zayn laughs at that, and moves his head away. His body’s still closer than before, though, and Liam can feel the way that his own body wants to move into Zayn’s space, comfortable with the way they are around each other for the moment.

The rest of the set passes in a similar fashion, save for when Zayn asks Liam if he wants another drink. The music ratchets up another level and Liam finds his mouth almost on Zayn’s ear as he asks for “Just a coke, yeah?” He manages, this time, to give Zayn money to cover it and possibly spends most of the time when Zayn’s gone thinking about the feeling of a maybe spark when they’d touched hands. Static shock, Liam thinks.

When Zayn comes back with the drinks, Liam’s all but boring a hole in the stage and the nudge to his shoulder startles him. “They’re good, aren’t they? Josh was hoping you’d enjoy yourself.”

And Zayn sounds almost let down, in a way that Liam doesn’t quite understand, but he passes over the drink anyway.

“Yeah?” Liam decides upon saying. “I do, like them, that is. Thanks for taking me, Zayn.”

The smile that he gets in return is a bit bigger and Zayn just nudges against Liam’s side again.

-

When they’re done playing, Niall comes off of the stage and practically barrels into them both. Liam had a feeling he was the type to make friends easily and he doesn’t mind that he’s being proven right, except that Niall’s a bit sweaty.

“D’you mind?” Niall asks Zayn with a nod to his beer and Zayn shakes his head.

“Cheers,” he says before sculling what’s left in the glass.

“Awesome set,” Liam says and Niall smiles.

“Yeah, was pretty fucking wicked,” replies Niall. “Glad Josh let me play, though he might've gone with anyone this late in the game, I think.”

“You’re good though,” Zayn says and Niall smiles.

“Thanks mate.”

Josh comes over then to yell at Niall. “Oi, come on, we gotta pack up now, drinks after.”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Niall says with a laugh. “You two mind sticking around a little bit longer?”

Zayn looks to Liam and shakes his head, and Liam copies him. “I guess,” Liam says and reminds himself not to sounds too keen to leave yet.

“Sweet, hold up then,” says Niall before he leaves the glass and is off packing up.

Josh is still stood there and Liam moves to get up. “Did you need any more help?”

“Nah, we’re right,” Josh says with a smile and claps a hand on Liam’s shoulder, making him sit back down. Liam’s a bit too aware, in that moment, of how much stronger Josh is, despite being shorter than Liam. “Thanks for helping before though, and hope you liked it.”

“It was great,” Liam replies and Josh smiles.

“Awesome, well, shouldn’t let Niall stay there by himself, he’ll probably break something.”

He’s off then too and Liam turns to face Zayn.

“What usually happens now?” Liam asks and Zayn shrugs.

“If Niall’s here? Usually he’ll have some weed and we’ll go back to his,” and the way he says it is so casual, like it’s something he’s used to.

“Oh,” Liam says and he tries to steady his voice.

Liam’s not actually sure how to react, because he knows that others smoke up, that it’s not unusual, but he hadn’t known it was a thing for Zayn. Or maybe it’s not a thing for Zayn, or it only is when Niall’s there.

Liam over analyses the words that Zayn used, going back to Niall’s, and tries to think of a way to get out of it but doesn’t know how. He figures it’ll probably go okay if he says that he’s not allowed to, for his sport, or whatever, his lungs. It’s true, in part, but he’s also not sure if he wants to spend time with Zayn when he’s high, the feel of his touches heightened and thoughts fuggy.

It turns out he doesn’t need to make excuses though, because when the guys come back, they’ve already got a drink each, Josh and Jon and Sandy and Niall, and Niall’s inviting them back to his. Josh and Jon have already said they can’t go, both with early shifts tomorrow, so Niall turns his attention to Zayn and Liam.

“A celebration, yeah? D’you smoke?”

And Liam shakes his head. “Can’t, sports.”

Niall’s surprisingly nice about it and he just shrugs. “Fair enough. Zayn, you coming along?”

And Zayn looks at Liam for some reason, a question in his eyes and Liam smiles. “I’ll see you at home then?"

“I- I guess? I mean, if that’s what you want, I can stay here or,” and Zayn trails off.

Liam feels like it’s not fair, though, because somehow he feels bad, like it’s his fault Zayn is looking a bit off, and he smiles encouragingly instead. “Go on, I’ll see you at the flat.”

“’s got Josh and Jon to keep him company,” Sandy says and that seems to be another reason for Zayn to join Niall and so he nods at Liam.

“Have- have fun yeah? Tell me how it goes?” And something about the words sounds off to Liam but he smiles and agrees anyway.

“You too,” Liam replies and then Zayn’s walking off with Niall and Sandy.

“Staying long then?” Jon is saying and Liam shakes his head.

“Should probably head back soon, a bit tired. You were all awesome though,” Liam says. “And I didn’t know you sang, Josh.”

Josh laughs at that. “Yeah, not many people expect it, I guess.”

“You were good,” Liam repeats with a smile.

“So you enjoyed it?”

“Yeah, it was awesome. Niall was great with you guys, wouldn’t’ve guessed he’s not in the band.”

“He kind of is, unofficially, I guess,” Josh says and Jon nods.

“Yeah, guy hangs around with pretty much everyone, can pick up a tune, so he’s part of the group in any case. Zayn and his mates, Harry? Yeah, they all hang out a lot.”

Liam smiles at that and knows that it probably doesn’t mean what he thinks it does, that Niall and Zayn are together, because it’s hardly ever like that for Zayn.

His drink empty, Liam smiles at both the guys. “Probably gonna go now, but it was awesome watching you.”

Jon smiles and reaches his hand out to shake Liam’s, which he takes. Josh, when Liam sticks his hand out, pulls him in for a hug instead. “Come around next time, yeah? You might meet a couple more of the group.”

“Definitely,” Liam says, and he finds himself meaning it. “’Night.”

When he leaves the pub, the night air is cool. There’s no one on the streets, not as far as he can see, but the air is crisp and the lights are clear and it feels like maybe things are going alright. He’s not going to admit to Louis that he’s right, that going out isn’t nearly as bad as he thought, but he figures he should text in anyway.

 _Nice night, met Niall, going home now_.

 _didn’t stay in w/ zayn & niall?_ Louis replies and Liam texts back.

 _How’d u know Zayn’s w/ Niall?_ He leaves his phone out as he rounds the corner to his street.

 _txtd me._ is Louis reply.

_oh ok. u & harry alright?_

_y, u wanna join in?_ and Liam considers his options – going home and having to think about the fact that Zayn’s actually out with someone, knowing that he’s not just stayed late with Harry or Louis, or staying out with Harry and Louis, watching them crawl all over each other, oblivious of what their actions are saying.

 _i’m good, thnx tho. g’night,_ Liam sends, and he tucks his phone away, pulls out his keys and lets himself in.

-

The next few weeks pass without event – when Zayn comes in, early the next morning, Liam’s already out at uni, attending a tutorial for his journalism course, but he leaves a note to make sure Zayn knows he made it home okay.

Halfway through the day, he gets a text from Zayn, _c u later? downloaded sum new movies niall recommended_ and Liam wonders if he’s made a mistake. Another text beeps through before he can reply and it’s from Josh which is a bit unexpected but not unwelcome.

_doing a practice, wanna know if you wanna watch? z said you’ve not done much music but..._

Choosing his words carefully, Liam types out his replies.

 _sorry, other plans_ and _sounds good. more details & i’ll c u then._

Before he can get caught out for texting, he locks his phone, turns it on silent, and figures he’ll deal with it all after this session’s over and he’s had his lunch.

The line at the campus coffee shop is unfortunate, long and full of students not quite awake and Liam feels out of place until Harry calls out at him over the counter.

“Oi, nice of you to drop in,” he shouts and Liam turns around like those around him, pretends it’s not him that Harry’s calling out to.

“C’mon Liam, I know you know I’m talking to you,” and Liam’s reached the front of the queue so it’s not like he can deny it.

“Do I know you?” Liam teases instead, and Harry laughs.

“Possibly. I think we hung out once. Or twice. Or every other day, honestly Liam, your memory’s almost as bad as Lou’s.”

Liam makes a mental note to use that quote against Harry at some point, blackmail or whatever, but then realises he’s yet to make his order.

“So what’ll it be?” Harry asks.

“Um,” Liam says. “Uh, a chicken Caesar wrap and a bottle of water, thanks.”

Harry pulls a face. “Really Liam? I mean, I’m not exactly meant to say this, but you can get the same thing down at the service station for half the price.”

“Maybe I want to get it here,” Liam retorts and Harry’s face twists into a smile.

“I’ve got my break in half an hour,” Harry says.

“And I eat slowly, so get me my food.”

The draw of the coffee shop is usually Harry’s charm, Liam does admit that, but there’s something just _nice_ about being able to boss him around, even if he swears at times that Harry _likes_ it.

When Harry eventually takes his break, Liam’s only made progress on some of his food, eaten from one of the pre-cut halves and, when Harry asks with his quivering bottom lip, indicates that Harry can take the other half of the wrap.

“Cheers, Li,” Harry says through a mouthful of food.

“No problem,” he says, swallowing first so as not to give Harry the same sort of show.

Liam’s still fascinated by the way that Harry eats, even after two years of knowing him. There’ve probably been too many occasions where Harry’s eaten something not quite safe, just because he’d been dared too, and almost as many times that Louis’d been distracted by Harry’s tongue.

As it is, Liam just finishes off his own half, and takes a drink from the water before pulling out his phone and fiddling around. He figures they’ll talk when Harry’s done, used to the pace at which Harry lives and moves and speaks.

There are two messages, the replies from Josh and Zayn and he feels a bit bad about it, having to refuse one invitation in favour of the other.

“So,” Harry says, breaking into Liam’s bubble. “How was last night? Louis said you met Niall.”

“Yeah, it was pretty good,” replies Liam. “The band’s... different. But I like them.”

“Know what you mean,” Harry nods. “Their normal guitar guy, Dan, he’s cool too, but Niall’s – Niall’s made to be up on stage.”

Liam thinks back to the night before, the way that he’d thrown himself into each song. How, even though his fingers had fumbled a few times, Niall’d put himself into the music.

“He’s comfortable up there,” Liam agrees.

“Louis said Zayn and Niall left before you though?” and Liam wonders whether Louis shares everything with Harry. Probably.

“And Sandy. To uh, smoke.”

Harry nods, understanding. “Niall’s got a good dealer.”

“Hasn’t he only been here a couple of weeks?” Liam asks, curious as ever, and Harry shrugs.

“He’s like you, you know?”

And no, Liam doesn’t know.

“Makes friends easily. Is friendly to everyone. Though you’re less obvious about it, I think. Niall will latch onto anyone, literally.”

“Oh,” is all Liam has to reply with and Harry smiles.

“Did you like him, then?”

Thinking it over, Liam decides that he’s not sure.

“I mean, he seemed to get along well with Zayn and yeah.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Harry asks.

“I dunno,” Liam replies. Harry knows about his... his _thing_ for Zayn but Liam doesn’t bring it up as much with him as he does with Louis, knows there’s a conflict of interest because Harry and Zayn are close, friends since before uni - Harry’s loyalties lie more with Zayn. Liam understands, for the same reasons he doesn’t tell Harry about how Louis feels.

“But you’ve seen Zayn today, right?” Harry presses on.

“Texted him,” Liam says and he waves his phone in Harry’s face.

“And?”

“We’re gonna watch a movie tonight, I think?” Liam reads over Zayn’s reply, _its a comedy, trailer looks good. i get back at 6, so maybe watch @7?_

“Just at home,” he clarifies, but looking up, Harry’s still got a big smile on his face.

“Sounds nice,” is all he has to say, and Liam smiles.

There’s a pause while Liam keeps flicking through his texts, a _cool nxt time then?_ from Josh and Louis’ _night li_ from yesterday.

“Hey, but how’re things with Josh?” Harry remarks and Liam lifts an eyebrow at that.

“With Josh? Okay, I guess. Why?”

“No, just. Was wondering.”

Liam recognises something in his eyes, the same look when Louis’d suggested he was flirting with Josh the other week. “I’m not- I’m not flirting with Josh, if that’s what Louis told you.”

“Louis told me nothing,” Harry replies, but the glint in his eye says otherwise.

“Oh, come on,” Liam says. “I’m pretty sure he’s straight, or at least has a girlfriend.”

“How d’you know that?” asks Harry.

“Saw his phone’s wallpaper. Him and a girl, kissing. Pretty sure he’s either not over an ex, or not got one.”

“Fair enough,” Harry says and it looks like he’s making a mental note of it. “It’s not bad, though, Li.”

And Liam screws his nose up, lost again with whatever Harry’s referring to.

“To find someone new,” Harry says. “Or just, someone else. Zayn’s not the only guy out there.”

“I know,” he replies and he smiles, softly. “And honestly, I’m dealing with it all so.”

He stops talking, takes a drink from his water. There’s not much else to say on the matter, really.

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

Liam smiles. “I am.”

They finish up the rest of the lunch and Harry’s break in relative quiet, Liam asking how Harry and Louis’ night was and not getting much more of an answer than “good”.

At the end of the break, Harry stands up, holds his hand out to pull Liam out of his chair too, and brings him in for a hug.

When the break apart, Liam has to ask. “What was that for?”

“Just felt like it,” and Harry’s got a smile on his face as he says it.

“Okay,” Liam says and he pulls Harry back in for another hug before he leaves. It’s nice.

-

When he gets back to the flat later that night, Zayn’s already got the movie lined up, his laptop hooked up to their little TV, and is sat on the couch in his pyjamas with a textbook in his lap. He doesn’t talk about it often but Liam’s pretty sure Zayn’s in love with his course, a Bachelor of Arts double majoring in Visual Art and Art History, and he can see it in the way he’s absorbed by the text.

He’s concentrating so deeply, in fact, that Liam is able to sneak up on him and plonk himself on the couch before Zayn lets out an almighty yelp.

“Jesus _Christ_ , Li,” Zayn says, panting a little. “Warn a guy next time, yeah?”

“Sorry,” Liam apologises, laughing. “Didn’t know you’d get so freaked.”

Zayn smiles. “Just really into my book, I guess.”

He closes it, puts it on the coffee table, and Liam takes his laptop bag off his shoulders, resting it up against the couch.

“So have you eaten yet?” Zayn asks and Liam nods.

“On the way back from work. You?”

“Yeah, nah, was just checking. 've got popcorn though,” replies Zayn and he gets up. “Want some?”

Liam doesn’t reply at first, caught up in the way that Zayn’s stretching, working out the kinks in his body, and the way his shirt slips up. He tries not to be weird about it, but sometimes Liam finds himself focussing on the bits of Zayn that no one else gets, be it him in slouchy clothes, or Zayn’s appreciation of Art Nouveau.

“Liam?” Zayn asks again and Liam almost physically shakes himself out of it, smiles at Zayn.

“Yeah, if you’re gonna have some.”

Zayn smiles and they walk into the kitchen, Liam trailing behind and standing there as he watches Zayn make popcorn.

“Hey, so, how’d last night go?” Liam finds himself asking.

“Huh?” Zayn says and Liam elaborates.

“With Niall, yeah?”

“Oh, good.” Zayn smiles, a small one, and Liam’s not sure what to take from that. “Probably not as good as yours, though.”

And Liam thinks over his night – coming home alone, the flat kind of creepy when he realises that no one’s been home all night and just being really tired. “You’d be surprised, staying in sucks.”

The microwave is buzzing and he almost misses what Zayn says next.

“You didn’t go out with Josh then?” and Liam quirks a smile.

“Why does everyone think I did?”

Zayn shrugs. “He’s a good looking guy, and, I dunno, you seem into him.”

Liam stops himself from laughing, but only because Zayn might get offended. “I uh. I don’t think you know what I’m like when I’m into someone, Zayn.”

“No offense,” he tacks on the end, because, yeah that was a bit harsh. And maybe a bit obvious.

Zayn doesn’t say anything until the microwave stops spinning. “I mean. You never really say much about guys or girls so I just figured- ”

“I’m not gonna start dating anyone any time soon, I think,” Liam says and Zayn looks like he’s gonna ask why, so Liam cuts him off pre-emptively. “Just. Yeah. Popcorn?”

Subtlety is not Liam’s strong suit, but confrontation isn’t Zayn’s, so after a second, Zayn empties the bag into a bowl and walks out into the lounge.

“Coming?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Liam finds himself saying and he follows Zayn out of the tension of the kitchen.

When the turn the movie on, Liam’s hyperaware of the space he’s put between himself and Zayn, of every centimetre, like it says Something Important. He’s not sure if it’s just his imagination, but it feels like there is a message there.

-

Apparently, one night out means that Liam’s now a Part of the Group, or so Louis texts.

“You have to come,” he whines when Liam finally manages to call him.

He’s walking back to the flat from campus, a text from Louis saying that they’re all at a bar, and will Liam come along, pretty please?

“Says who?” Liam says. He’s aware he sounds like a pouting five year old, but it’s a mood that he takes on seriously. He’s got the bottom lip for it.

“Harry, for one. And me. And Niall says he wants to meet you again,” replies Louis. “And, of course, Zayn.”

Liam sighs, cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear as he fumbles to open the door.

“’m still in my work gear, Lou.”

“And you look well fit in that shirt,” states Louis. “So come along.”

Liam doesn’t say anything, just strips out of his work clothes and roots about his room to find some clean pants to wear. Louis takes the silence for the acquiescence that it is, whoops loudly, and informs everyone else that Liam will be coming along.

Sighing, Liam hangs up on Louis, figures he deserves it, and makes his way to the bathroom. It’s possible that Liam likes it when Zayn is out, if only because he can walk around in the nude. Their hallway has no windows and Liam can never really be arsed to pull on something for the short trip, not when he’s already stripped out of the grimy clothes from the day.

He turns on the shower as soon as he reaches the bathroom, cracks open the window a bit to let the steam out, and closes the door behind him. He’s used to scalding hot showers, loves the way that the water will redden his skin, relax his muscles.

When he steps in, Liam lets the water soak his hair before moving so that it can sluice down his body. As much as he likes being able to feel clean, Liam loves having a space to think, or, on days like today, not think at all. He absentmindedly smooths his hands down his body, feels the slick of the water against his skin.

Standing there, under the spray of water, Liam finds himself half hard, in that idle way that he could ignore. It’s not often that he’ll get the flat to himself though, and even though Louis’ stripped away much of Liam’s sensibilities, he’s not too keen on Zayn hearing how loud he can get. It’s with this in mind that Liam starts stroking himself, the idea that for once, he can be as loud and go as slowly as he wants.

Even with his lack of proper social life, Liam’s not forgotten what it feels like, the press of skin against skin. Closing his eyes, he focuses on that, the thought that it could be someone else’s hand on his dick, wrapping their fingers around his shaft and tugging, slowly. He likes to tease, not give in straight away to the urge to fuck the circle of his fist, likes to bring himself to full hardness before slowing down, just squeezing and releasing his grip at the base.

Pausing to take a breath, Liam feels his dick twitch, a drop of precome leaking from the head, and he swipes off the slickness with his thumb, smoothes it down his shaft and keeps stroking. Bracing himself against the wall, Liam thinks about speeding up, the tight grip of his hand being someone’s lips in his mind, not too thick or too thin, but soft, plush lips that Liam can fuck into without hesitation.

He imagines someone on their knees in front of him, in this shower even and his hips jerk reflexively, closer at the thought of fucking into Zayn’s- into someone’s throat. Liam almost bites back a moan before he remembers no one can hear him, and so he allows himself this, to be loud, thinks about whether Zayn would like it if Liam were noisy, and he has no delusions, knows he’s wanking over Zayn now, has done it before (thought about wanking _over_ Zayn, coming on his lips and face and throat).

Liam lets himself wonder what Zayn’s like in bed, if he’s demanding or if he’s willing to go with what his partner says. He imagines that Zayn would be soft underneath him, lines of muscle that almost curve, skinny but flush against another body, still warm. And somehow the body in his mind’s eye isn’t Liam’s own, isn’t thick or broad, doesn’t quite cover the expanse of Zayn’s chest and all his tattoos when it presses up against him.

The body has a soft stomach, small waist and Liam can almost hear the accent when the person grips Zayn’s dick, starts pumping it in the same rhythm that Liam’s got on his own and-

“Fuck,” Liam groans when he comes, hot and wet against the tiled wall. He watches as the water washes most of it away, directs the showerhead when he’s got enough energy to do so, and tries not to think about the fact that he just got off on the idea of watching Zayn and Niall have sex.

He finishes showering in a bit of a rush, conscious of the time that he’s spent in there, and doesn’t bother shaving off the little bit of stubble that’s grown through the day. Pulling on his jeans and a t-shirt, a button up over the top, Liam sets off to the bar and tries not to think.

-

Getting to the bar is fine. Seeing everyone is fine. Even Niall is okay, once Liam stops trying to assess whether his imagination has done Niall’s body credit. He feels a bit like a creeper, but the smile that Niall sends him is a little more than friendly, so he thinks he might be alright.

Louis’ there, of course, splayed out over the laps of Sandy and Harry and both seem awfully endeared by his rousing “Hello!” to Liam (though Harry slightly more so). His greeting is such that Liam doesn’t even notice the lack of Zayn until a second later when Niall mentions it.

“He’s gone to fetch us all some drinks,” Niall says, “since Louis bet him that you’d come out with us.”

And Liam wants to feel hurt over that, that they’d bet on his appearances but he thinks he might not have the emotional capacity for that _and_ to feel guilty over this afternoon, so he lets it slide.

Niall’s moved over to leave room for Liam and he happily takes the spot. Louis’ chattering on about something or other that’s got Harry enraptured and when Zayn comes back, only pauses to steal a drink.

“Hey Li,” Zayn says with a smile and passes him a rum and coke.

“Heard this is ‘cause I turned up,” Liam says, raising his eyebrow and Zayn has the decency to laugh sheepishly.

“Yeah, uh. I wasn’t sure you’d turn up, to be honest.”

“It’s cool,” Liam says and he can’t be annoyed with Zayn for long, not really. “Wasn’t sure if I would either.”

Zayn laughs at that, passes the last drink over to Jon before sitting next to Liam.

“’s good to see you coming out of your shell though,” says Zayn.

“Not much of a socialiser?” Niall asks and Liam shrugs.

“Dunno, really. Just didn’t really go out much in first or second year,” replies Liam.

“Unless it was for study,” Zayn says and Liam feels like they’re verging on a story. “Liam’d always be okay to go out to the library. Harry and I thought he’d had a _girlfriend_ there before Louis’d said anything about...”

And Liam can tell where this is going, stories about boys and maybe crushes. He thinks that maybe tonight will be alright, because Zayn’s in that moods he’s got, the one where he’ll talk about anything for ages on end and apparently tonight, Liam is that anything.

He doesn’t feel like he minds and sits back against the booth, lets Zayn ramble on and occasionally interjects with a correction or a side story. It’s nice, Liam will reluctantly admit, and when Louis joins in too, a twinkle in his eye as he tells the story of how he and Liam had first met, in detention on the first day of sixth form, Liam finds himself loving it.

“And _that’s_ why Liam refuses to use revolving doors,” Louis concludes with a wide smile, the whole table almost dying with laughter, Liam included.

When he leans back against the booth, though, he realises he’s leaning against someone’s arm and turns around to see Niall’s arm reaching out, fingers touching Zayn in a way that feels intimate.

And Liam suddenly feels like earlier was a premonition, that it could be his fault for thinking up of it, because, hey, that’s Niall touching Zayn in a way that doesn’t say, _I had fun the other night, cool_ but does say _I had fun, and we have fun, and do you want to have fun again sometime soon, or maybe right now while our friends watch on because I have an exhibitionist streak._

It’s very possible Liam can’t hold his liquor.

He also can’t hold back his thoughts, his mouth has to open and ask, “Is this a thing, then?”

Niall turns to look at what Liam’s seeing, then turns to Zayn, shrugging. “Is it?” Niall asks.

Zayn looks caught and Liam feels bad for putting them on the spot but he _has_ to know, before he lets his mind wander further.

“I- uh- ” and the table’s gone quiet, even Louis noticing the awkward tension. “I guess?”

Liam’s not looking at Zayn as he replies, ends up watching Niall’s expression and the smile that spreads there. It’s that reaction that makes Liam figure out his response, makes him realise that if that’s what Zayn wants, a broad smile with the right sort of crinkles around his eyes then, well.

“Congratulations,” Liam cheers and it breaks the silence, the others joining in with shouts of the same, and Niall leaning in behind Liam to whisper at Zayn, or maybe kiss him.

“I should probably move so you can both,” Liam finds himself saying, gesturing between them and Zayn makes a mild protest, but Liam shuffles them all around so he’s sat on the other side of Zayn, on one side of the couple now.

Across the table, Louis tries to catch Liam’s eye, but he ducks, avoiding it. He does, however, fail to avoid the swift kick to his shin that Louis deals out. It’s an affectionate one, so Liam takes it.

-

When he wakes up the next morning, Liam regrets having let Louis convince him to go out. His back is aching in a way that says he slept on the couch before eventually making his way to his bed and his head is throbbing from the alcohol that he still hasn’t learned to tolerate.

Opening his eyes is too hard to contemplate doing for a while, so Liam just lies there, lets the sounds of the world outside his window filter in. It’s nice until Liam realises that he never leaves his window open, not when he’s headed out. Which means that someone saw him in this state, dragged him home after the three beers that followed Zayn and Niall’s – their whatever.

And thinking about _that_ is making Liam’s head hurt more. He’s got half a mind to feel bad for shoehorning them into a relationship, or into admitting that they’re in one, but both seemed more than fine with it last night. Zayn had thrown an arm around Niall like it was nothing and the conversation had settled into a flow, one that Liam followed, occasionally added to, but generally just let be. More drinks were drunk and Liam has a vague recollection of Louis and Niall sculling something or other while everyone else looked on. He remembers making eye contact with Zayn, a fond _hey, how about those idiots_ look and feeling not-good, but not-bad either. Goodbyes were some time after that, Liam recalls and then- not much else.

He thinks that maybe he should check, see if he has to thank or possibly apologise to Zayn for dragging him home and it’s with much reluctance that he throws the covers off of his bed, swings his legs down until they touch the floor, and slowly gets up. Through his thin door, Liam can hear the sounds of the telly on in the lounge room, sound carrying in the small space. At least he knows he won’t have woken Zayn, what with the way he usually makes noise puttering about in the morning.

He’s still in his pants from the night before, having remembered to tug his jeans and button up off at least, but Liam searches for some sweats and changes out of his undershirt to pull on an old t-shirt. After throwing the clothes in his laundry basket, Liam ducks into the bathroom, splashes his face with water and brushes his teeth quickly to get rid of the gross feeling in his mouth.

Heading out to the lounge, Liam only realises it’s not Zayn when he sees Niall’s blonde hair over the edge of the couch, head turned towards the TV. He’s torn, for a split-second, between running his hands through the mess of Niall's hair and running back to his room, but he realises that Niall’s already noticed him, is turning to look up at him with a wide grin.

“Hey Liam,” he says. “Feeling better then?”

Liam nods and tries a smile on for size. “Was I bad last night then?”

Niall laughs, not unfriendly, and then shrugs. “Depends on what you mean. Had a right time trying to get both you and Zayn settled but ‘m used to it.”

“Uh, thanks for that then,” Liam says and Niall smiles.

“No problem, really,” he says and pats a spot next to him. “’m watching, if you wanna join me.”

And Liam’s not sure how to wiggle his way out of it, so he sits down, keeps a bit of space from where Niall’s sat, still in his boxers, shirt almost riding high enough to expose a stretch of skin. There’s no doubt that he spent the night here and Liam almost wants to curse himself for having the sort of luck that makes him declare that people are in a relationship before they’ve even admitted it themselves.

Liam’s eyes are trained mostly on the TV but he couldn’t say what’s on for the life of him, not with how he keeps tracking Niall’s movement out the corner of his eye. Eventually, an ad break happens and Liam takes the chance to look over to the kitchen, check the clock that’s hung there.

“I can make us some tea, if you’d like,” he says to Niall. “Sorry for being a shit host and not offering before.”

“Nah, you’re ‘right,” replies Niall. “And only if you’re having some, yeah? Don’t wanna put you outta your way.”

“No, it’s fine,” Liam insists and he moves to get up. “D’you think Zayn’ll be up soon or should we leave his until later?”

Liam’s actually sort of proud of how he manages to not stuff up while talking to Niall about Zayn.

“Dunno,” Niall says with a shrug. He’s followed Liam into the kitchen and heads over to the sink, watches as Liam fills up the kettle. “Last I saw, he was fast asleep in his room.”

“Oh,” says Liam. He sets the kettle back down on its stand and switches it on. Niall’s still watching and Liam has to nudge past him gently to fetch the mugs from the cupboard. If it were anyone else, Liam thinks, they’d probably be ribbing Niall about it by now, _shouldn’t you be in there with him?_ But he can’t bring himself to say it, so instead, he asks, “I – is Earl Grey okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll take anything,” Niall says with a smile. He’s got one of those wide grins, and Liam can see his braces again, the glint of the metal and the way his tongue moves to sweep past them and over his lips. Liam realises he’s staring and quickly looks up at Niall, who seems to have caught him staring.

Liam refuses to blush and instead works on getting three tea bags out. Zayn will probably wake up sooner rather than later, considering it’s almost noon. “Milk’s in the fridge,” Liam says, and then he turns away from Niall to fetch the sugar and avoid further eye contact.

“Sure,” Niall replies and when Liam turns around, he’s bent over at the waist, skin exposed as his shirt slides up. The exposed strip is pale and unmarked, not a single bruise where Liam imagined Zayn might have pressed some and he finds himself swallowing against a dry throat.

“Thanks for letting me crash, by the way,” says Niall as he straightens back up.

“It’s, uh, it’s cool,” replies Liam and he shrugs. “I mean, ‘s not like you stayed in my room.”

“Huh, yeah,” Niall laughs. “True, I guess. Both you and Zayn were pretty much out cold when I shoved you in your rooms. And your couch is pretty comfy.”

“The couch?” Liam says, confused, but before he can ask why Niall didn’t just stay in Zayn’s room, the kettle goes off, a high whistle and the click of the switch as the water finishes boiling.

“Should get that,” Niall says, nodding towards the kettle. “And yeah, what, did you think I stayed in Zayn’s room? He’d bloody kill me, what with when I wake up and all.”

“Oh,” is all Liam manages before he moves off to make the tea, taking the milk carton that Niall passes to him, glad to have something to do.

He hears the TV in the other room start playing music, some inane charts show and Niall starts humming along, underneath his breath. It gives him something to listen to, apart from his own thoughts, like why Niall and Zayn apparently didn’t sleep together, or at least, didn’t _sleep_ together.

“You know this song?” Niall asks and it breaks through Liam’s bubble, him watching as the tea bags steep in the mugs. It’s something cheesy, early 90s pop that Liam wouldn’t normally admit to having a liking for, but Niall seems pleased enough by it and Liam nods.

“My sisters’ used to watch Top of the Pops all the time,” Liam replies. “Milk yeah? And sugar?”

“Just one, thanks,” Niall says.

Liam nods, says, “I can bring it to the lounge, if you want? Just so you don’t have to wait here.”

“It’s cool,” Niall says and he motions to the counter, like he’s asking if he can sit up on it, and Liam just smiles.

From where he’s sat, up a bit higher, Liam knows Niall’s got a good view of the whole flat, can even sort of see the telly from there and figures it’s as close as he’ll get to Niall not watching him over think _everything_. After pouring the milk in, and stirring in a spoonful of sugar, he passes the tea over to Niall who smiles in thanks.

It’s almost sweet, Liam thinks, domestic, except that he wants to feel the bumps of Niall’s braces against his teeth, wants to feel that smile against his own lips and Liam’s kind of worried that he’s getting more easily distracted by the physical presence of Niall.

He works on fixing his own tea, milk then stirring a few tablespoons of sugar into his tea, and watching as Niall balks at the amount he’s added. “Don’t start, Louis already hates me for it.”

“Just don’t tell me Zayn takes his tea like that,” Niall says with a wrinkled nose.

“Almost as much sugar,” Liam says sweetly, and he brings his mug up to take a sip, smiling over the rim. “’m leaving his here, he can get it later.”

“Back to the lounge then?” Niall asks and, careful to place his mug down first, hops down off the counter.

“Sure,” Liam replies with a smile and he follows him through to the other room. As they head back, Liam feels Niall brush up against him, could swear it’s deliberate but for the casual way that Niall acts. He’s a little like Louis, with his lack of regard of person space, but with Niall it’s comfortable, rather than overbearing.

They settle back onto the couch and Liam pulls his legs up onto the couch, tucks in on himself and his mug of tea while blankly trying to figure out if the current music video is meant to be a parody or is entirely serious.

Niall, however, is apparently caught up in looking at their flat now, because he sets the mug down after a little while and nods towards the corner. “Is that yours?”

Liam looks, knows that he’s talking about the acoustic guitar resting up against the bookshelf. “Yeah,” Liam says.

“Do you mind?” Niall asks and he goes to stand up.

“No, go ahead. ‘m willing to bet you play better than I do,” Liam laughs and Niall shrugs.

The way he picks it up, careful but confident, makes Liam feel a bit better about watching him putter around the flat. Holding it properly, he gives the guitar a strum, plays out a couple of chords to match the song that’s playing on the telly. Liam knows that Niall’s good, appreciates the lack of false humility and finds himself getting absorbed in the way that Niall’s playing along, with this almost reverential look on his face.

“She’s in pretty good condition,” he says, finally, strumming a final chord as the song changes. Liam goes to turn the volume down, since clearly neither of them are listening much.

“Thanks,” he says. “I try to keep it in tune, you know.”

“So you play with others or?”

Liam laughs. “Mainly alone, actually. You know, not one to go out much.”

Niall seems to take that in and moves to sit next to Liam, guitar cradled in his arms. “D’you sing then?”

“A little, I guess,” Liam replies. “Every now and again. Used to, a lot more, but I kind of fell out of doing it properly after high school. Now I mostly do it for fun.”

“You can do it properly and for fun at the same, you know,” says Niall and he starts plucking out the notes to a song, one who’s name Liam can’t pick out yet, but the melody he can recognise. “I play for fun, and I guess properly too, ‘cause Josh pays me for it.”

“Lucky,” is all Liam can think to say.

“Yeah,” Niall says. “I guess.”

He looks up at Liam, still playing but paying less attention to the way his fingers move, instead looking up at him through his eyelashes. Liam finally picks up on the song that Niall’s playing, an old Matchbox Twenty song that he hasn’t heard in ages, but can still remember the words to, and he starts to sing along, under his breath, _I think I could need this in my life_. Looking up, he sees Niall singing along and his voice catches a little, enough to make Niall look him in the eye.

“G’morning,” interrupts a voice and Liam startles, turns around to see Zayn leaning against the wall, hair sleep rumpled and eye still half closed.

Liam shuffles back from Niall, moves away and Niall’s stopped playing now, eyes flicking to where Zayn’s stood.

“Hey, sorry, did we wake you?” Niall says and Zayn shrugs.

Liam moves so that there’s more room between him and Niall, wordlessly offering Zayn a place to sit, but he remains where he’s standing.

“You sound good together,” he says and Zayn looks Liam in the eye as he says it.

“It’s Niall, mainly,” Liam insists. “He’s good.”

“I know,” Zayn replies with a smile.

“You’re pretty good yourself,” Niall says to Liam. “Just need to sing a bit louder, probably.”

Liam finds himself smiling, ducking his head until he realises that Zayn’s there, _Niall’s boyfriend_ and his own _flatmate_ is watching him blush over Niall and Liam feels more awkward than ever. He goes to stand, manages to mutter something like thank you to Niall, and tell Zayn that he’s just going to fetch him a tea.

“Thanks Li,” Zayn says as Liam passes him, on his walk into the kitchen. As he walks by, Liam catches a whiff of Zayn, something like bar smoke still pressed into his skin, mixed with the smell of mussed sheets that Liam knows will be crumpled on Zayn’s bed. It’s familiar and comforting and makes him want to bury his nose in the crook of Zayn’s neck, but then the moment passes and Liam finds himself in the kitchen. Zayn’s moved, Liam can tell from where he’s standing, gone to sit next to Niall and is leaning down to talk quietly. Liam almost wishes they’d turn the telly up, so he wouldn’t hear the murmurs.

Zayn’s mug has gone mostly cold in the interim and he debates zapping it in the microwave to warm it up. He figures it can’t hurt, knows that Zayn hates it when his drinks are off temperature, more than if Liam forgets to add sugar, or if Louis purposely buys them all straight black tea, the tiniest bit of milk and no sugar. The hum of the microwave as it turns is soothing, lets Liam’s head clear a little from the confusion of gravitating so close to Niall.

The microwave beeps, and Liam’s careful not to burn himself as he brings the drink over. On the couch, Zayn’s moved closer to Niall, snuggled up against his side and Liam almost goes to sit on the floor before Zayn pats the space on the other side of him, an invitation.

“Your tea,” Liam says and he passes it to Zayn, their fingers brushing.

“Thanks, Li, you’re wonderful,” replies Zayn and it sounds so sincere, so fond, that Liam has to stop himself from leaning into Zayn, remind himself that he _doesn’t do that_.

But Zayn looks fond and Niall looks, well, he looks happy and Liam likes this, that they’ve got something of a balance here. And even if he’s wondering what the scratch of Niall’s callused finger tips feels like, even if he’s too invested in the way Zayn’s body is so loose and open in its movements, Liam thinks maybe he can handle it, if they’re this steady.

-

It’d be so much easier for Liam to ignore his feelings if he didn’t genuinely think Niall and Zayn were good together. Even through his mild jealousy (and he’s not even entirely sure for who, at this point), he can see that they’re good for each other. Niall’s friendly, like Liam’d been told, easy-going and easy to fall for. He still invites Liam to smoke up with them, out of courtesy, even when he knows it’s not quite Liam’s thing.

And now that they’re a _thing_ , Zayn and Niall turn up together, at the pub or at parties. They simply work, even when they’re not talking to each other – like there’s something connecting the two of them, a chord that stretches across a circle, from one point to another. Liam’s not sure what the centre of that circle is yet, can’t quite map out the geography, or geometry of it all, but it feels like the two of them are at home when they're together.

It would be easy to resent that, to be annoyed by the way that Niall is so in sync with everyone, except that he’s fallen into sync with Liam too, keeps him company as much as he does Zayn.

Where Liam might have felt out of place, in the coffee shop with Harry fawning over Louis and Zayn lounging on the armrest next to Niall, he instead feels welcome. Niall isn’t obnoxious about his relationship with Zayn, nothing more than a hand on Zayn’s leg, just touching. In fact, he’s more hands on with Liam, ruffling the styling of his hair and slinging his arm onto the couch behind Liam.

When Liam comes back to the flat to find Zayn and Niall on the couch, TV on and Niall tucked under Zayn’s shoulder, he doesn’t feel as awkward as he’d expected. Niall even goes out of his way to say hi, tears his eyes from the screen and hints that Liam should sit down and watch with them.

It’s not awkward but Liam’s also not going to subject himself to more feelings that he’ll have to sort out unless it’s completely necessary. He’s still trying to wrap his mind around it all, his attraction to Zayn, and possibly Niall, and the fact that they’re _together_ and he knows that, so instead he goes into and turns the music up, just in case. He never does hear anything happen between the two of them but Liam supposes that’s Niall being polite. Because he is, and Liam can appreciate that about him.

If the lines of appreciation are blurred while he’s jerking off, if the thought that Niall’s purposely holding back noises, biting his lip until it flushes as red as cheeks can, bright pink on pale skin, then that’s something Liam is trying to sort out.

Ignoring how both his flatmate and his flatmate’s partner are both starring in more of his fantasies, Liam thinks it’s great that they’ve found someone to be with. That they’re good together. He finds himself liking Niall’s personality a lot more than he anticipated. Liking the smiles that he gives to everyone, the way that he throws himself into his passions with all his energy. Liam finds himself liking the way Niall’s hair will be sweaty and mussed after a gig with Josh’s band, the way that he’ll stretch, skin peeking out from underneath his tank, to wrap his arms around Zayn’s shoulders.

Liam finds himself _liking_ Niall, and all the ways he is with Zayn.

It’s very possible that Liam has messed up.

-

Louis’ the one to bring it up, because of course it’s him.

“So what’s the deal with Niall then?” he asks Liam while they’re waiting for Harry to finish his shift.

“The deal?” Liam manages to say. “What deal?”

“I just mean, well,” Louis pauses. “You’re getting awfully close with him, considering he’s,” his voice drops a register, “you know, the competition.”

Liam doesn’t even bother trying to be subtle, he just grabs a magazine from the stack on the table and thwacks Louis with it.

“It’s not a bloody fight over Zayn, Lou,” he hisses. “He’s- Niall’s a nice guy, and we get along. It’s not a crime.”

Louis’ still rubbing his arm where the blow had landed and Liam has half a mind to feel sorry until he remembers that Louis’ kicked him harder on many more occasions. Usually over more trivial matters than accusing one’s friend of fighting for his flatmate.

“Never said it was,” Louis replies. “I just. It’s not weird for you, then?”

“It’s fine,” says Liam, and he presses his lips together, hopes that his expression will cut off Louis. “I’m managing. They’re good together and people can see that. Even if they’re not as obnoxious about their relationship as some people.”

He gives Louis another pointed stare, one which Louis returns blankly. “What do you mean, obnoxious?”

Before Liam can reply, Harry comes bounding over, his shift finally finished and promptly plops himself onto Louis’ lap, wrapping his arms around Louis’ shoulders. “Hey Lou,” he says, pressing the words into Louis hair.

From underneath Harry, Louis looks up, smiling brightly. “Hey Harry.”

Liam barely resists fake-retching at his friends, instead choosing to kick Louis in the shin to get his attention and then raise an eyebrow at the two of them. Louis’  eyes widen in denial but then Harry snuggles in closer, tucks his nose into the crook of Louis’ shoulder.

“Hey Harry,” Liam says, trying to break the tension that’s started building up between and around his friends.

Detaching himself from Louis for a second, Harry looks up at Liam and smiles. “Hello Li, it’s good to see you out again.”

“It’s nice, despite you clearly ignoring me in favour for Louis,” Liam jokes.

“Am not!” Harry cries, furrowing his brow. “I would never play favourites.”

“But you said _I_ was your favourite, just the other night,” Louis whines and Liam wants to laugh because he’s dealing with children here, really.

“You are, but- ” Harry wisely cuts himself off before he can say anything worse.

“Let me guess,” says Liam, in an effort to save Harry. “We’re all your favourites, just in different ways?”

He smirks at Harry, watches as his small frown turns into a wide smile, spreads across his cheeks until his dimples pop out. “Exactly, what Liam said.”

“But I’m still your most favourite. I’m everyone’s most favourite,” Louis says. “Isn’t that right, Liam?”

“You’re okay,” Liam replies, and quickly moves his legs out of the way so Louis can’t kick him, glad for the fact that Harry on Louis’ lap means no nipple twists coming his way any time soon.

“We’re all okay,” Harry says, trying to bring the situation back to normal. “Right? I’m okay, and- ”

His watch beeps, and Harry checks the time, swears under his breath. “And I’m late for class, crap. Bye Liam,” waving at Liam, he scrambles off of Louis’ lap, “bye Lou,” and kisses Louis on the head before ducking out back to grab his bag and go.

Louis’ still in his seat, apparently frozen in his spot by one kiss on the head. Liam wants to point out that they kiss all the time. It’s what Louis does to _everyone_ and Liam wants to remind him of that but it doesn’t seem like Louis’ capable of processing that at the moment. Instead, he asks, gently, “what was that, then?”

“Not- ” Louis’ voice catches. “Not obnoxious. It’s not anything, it’s just- it’s us, yeah?”

“Like, friends?”

“Like, we don’t have a label for it, and that’s cool with us?”

“Oh,” Liam replies, because there’s not much he can say to that. “Well. I mean. If you’re sure- ”

 “I’m sure,” Louis says.

“-then I’m glad.”

Liam shifts so that he’s closer to Louis, lets Louis tuck in under his arm liked they’d snuggle together when they were younger. It’s sweet, reminds Liam of home in a way that doesn’t hurt as much as his mum’s missed calls might, and of course, it makes him let his guard down. Which is why he probably deserves it when Louis takes advantage of his position to twist both of Liam’s nipples.

“Ow,” he whines and goes to grab Louis’ wrists with his hands. “No fair, I wasn’t ready for that.”

“You should always be ready for me, Liam,” Louis says, sticking his tongue out.

Liam wrinkles his nose at his best friend and then ducks away before Louis can lick the side of his face. They both laugh and Liam can feel the seriousness and tension ease away.

“We’re fine,” Louis reiterates, because he somehow knows Liam was about to ask again. “So stop asking. And maybe I’ll stop asking you about Zayn. Or Niall.”

“Thanks for that,” Liam asks and he loosens his grip on Louis’ wrists, not quite letting go until he’s sure no more pinching will occur.

“Wait, but it’s only Zayn, right?” Louis asks him, looking up at Liam through his fringe.

Liam refuses to back away under his gaze but his cheeks flush red, giving him away.

“It’s _not_ just Zayn?” exclaims Louis. “Wait, when you said get along- ”

“Niall and I are friends,” says Liam firmly. “He’s a nice guy.”

“And by nice, you mean his personality right?”

“He’s not ugly, Louis,” Liam finds himself saying before he can stop himself and Louis squirms away, delight glinting in his eyes.

“Oh my god,” he exclaims, all but leaping up from his seat. “You totally want a threesome!”

“Louis, no, I- shut up!” Liam tugs at Louis’ sleeve, gets him seated fully again and he’s grateful that there’s no one around them, or at least within earshot.

“It’s true though, you totally want to bang Zayn _and_ Niall.”

“That’s not how I’d put it,” Liam mutters. “They’re – I like them both, yeah, but you’re allowed to.”

“Too right you are,” Louis says. “Who wouldn’t love a pair of faces like that?”

Liam flushes again, deep red, thinks about how he does love that pair of faces, loves the idea of being with one of them, or the two of them together. But he doesn’t think of the three of them because-

“Threesomes don’t happen, though. Not in real life.”

Louis looks over at Liam, seems surprised at how despondent Liam sounds. “Well, that’s an awfully closed-minded statement to make, Li.”

“It’s true, though. Not outside of. Bad fiction or,” he coughs. “Porn.”

Looking up, he sees Louis’ frown directed at him.

“Besides,” Liam continues, “even if they _were_ okay with a threesome, that’s not what I want. I – I like both of them Lou, proper like, and I mean. They probably don’t even think of me like that, so. It’s best I leave them be.”

He says this resignedly, has thought it through multiple times and come to the same conclusion over and over. As much as he’d like for it to happen, it probably never will. Liam figures it’ll be okay, so long as neither Niall nor Zayn ever find out.

“You can’t say anything,” Liam voices aloud, for good measure. “Not to either of them, Lou. It’s not – I’m not going to act on it, so it’d just make things worse.”

“Yeah, okay,” replies Louis softly. The lack of volume speaks volumes about Louis’ earnestness and Liam is grateful for that.

Extending his arm out, he makes a space for Louis to sit in again, move close and just be there for each other. Of course, once he’s close enough, Liam digs his fingers into Louis’ sides, tickling him until he squirms and they’re both laughing, breathless.

-

As much as his conversation with Louis has cleared things up, on both his end and Louis’, Liam feels like he’s more conscious now. He’s been made more aware of the ways that he’s filling in spaces between Niall and Zayn, imagined spaces that don’t need his body slotted in them.

Where he might have watched a whole series of shows with Zayn and Niall before, Liam finds himself begging off after one episode, too aware of how Niall’s got his legs stretched over Liam’s and is leaning back against Zayn.

Niall invites Liam out, sometimes, says it’s just them but Zayn will be there too, and maybe Liam has a different definition of “them”. His definition doesn’t involve watching Zayn hover over Niall all night, brush against him in the ways that Liam can’t, and it doesn’t involve a slightly drunk Zayn doing the same again to Liam on their walk home.

Liam’s too aware of the way he wants now, as if admitting it has thrown everything into stark contrast, each time he laughs at Niall’s stories or smiles at Zayn in the morning. The way Niall always seems half a movement away from touching Liam’s waist when they hug, or how Zayn holds on that little bit longer. He's projecting, Liam knows he is, but he can’t help it now that the seed has been planted in his mind.

The only solution he has is not to water it and so, slowly, he stops going out with Zayn and Niall, unless he can guarantee someone is there as a buffer. More often than not, he’ll text Louis or Josh, make sure that at least one of them is coming, because Louis will drag along Harry and Josh, his band. Liam finds himself still watching though, seeing the way they interact and the ways he wants to react with them.

-

When Liam is invited out again, to a party, this time hosted by Niall, he figures he might as well give in. If he’s going to subject himself to thinking about Zayn and Niall, it might as well be in Niall’s own environment. Strange as it is, he’s never been to Niall’s flat before but it’s what he’s expecting – a bit haphazard but unnoticeable for the noise of the party and the booze. It’s good booze too, so once Louis has grabbed a bottle for himself and passed one to Liam, he goes off to find Harry, latching onto his neck and using the alcohol as something of an excuse.

It’s all a bit of a laugh until Louis starts kissing Harry properly and Liam finds himself wandering away, into the kitchen. Without Louis, he feels a bit lost, and Josh and his mates aren’t coming until much later, as he’d texted in reply when Liam had asked. Of course, before long, Liam’s finished his drink, and grabs another, the fridge conveniently close.

Watching the party is surprisingly interesting but Liam remembers another reason he’d not socialised much in his first few years, that being not knowing how to talk to inebriated people unless he’s the same himself. Instead of talking, he stands in the kitchen and tries to pick out the music that Niall’s blasting while he drinks. Liam’s downed his third bottle before he figures he should slow down, and goes to put it into the rubbish bin when Zayn walks in. They smile at each other and Zayn says hello.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Zayn says, and it feels almost familiar to Liam.

“Yeah, Louis brought me,” replies Liam with a smile. “He’s good like that.”

Zayn nods, reaches into the fridge to grab a bottle. And it’s not that things have been weird with Zayn back at the flat – they’ve _always_ kind of operated on complementary schedules, only ever catching the tail end of each other and now it’s just that but amplified. Liam feels like a lot of his life has been like that lately, just. Things slipping through. Zayn leans against the counter and Liam mimics his stance.

“Did you know,” Liam says after they’ve been stood there for a good ten minutes. “Did you know it takes an awful lot of words to express how you feel about someone?”

Zayn raises an eyebrow at that.

“Like, you can’t even just say ‘I love you’ because what the hell does that even mean? You say it to your parents, your friends, and it’s meant to mean Something because you’re dating or what the fuck ever?”

If Louis were here, maybe he’d ease the drink out of Liam’s hand by now, or maybe he would’ve done it ten minutes ago.

“Niall told me,” Zayn says and Liam wants to keep talking but Zayn’s spoken now and that, that’s what he wanted from this. For Zayn to _say something_.

“Told you what?” Liam says and he wants to find Louis, to go home and maybe not talk about this ever.

“That you’re not with Josh.”

And Liam wants to laugh, does laugh, because he thought they’d talked about it. “Yeah, ‘m not.”

“And that you like someone else,” Zayn continues and Liam’s laughter gets caught in his throat.

“Yeah?” is all he can think to say and Zayn nods.

“He, uh,” Zayn clears his throat. “He said you liked me?”

Liam doesn’t know how to reply. In all the scenarios he ran through in his head, every moment that he’d though about Zayn finding out, he was never drunk. It was also never really said to Zayn by Zayn’s boyfriend but-

“I don’t- ”

Zayn keeps talking, over the top of Liam. “He also said that, uh. That you seemed to like him too.”

Liam wants to kiss Niall for being perceptive, but also never kiss Niall because things like that will _never_ happen when you admit to wanting a polyamorous relationship with your two friends.

“Do you?” Zayn asks and Liam realises he’s not given Zayn much of a reaction.

“I- uh- ” and that’s as much as Liam manages before Niall turns up in his own kitchen, smile on his face.

“Oh, hey Liam,” he says, and pulls Liam into a hug. It’s all a bit too much for him and when he looks at Zayn over the curve of Niall’s shoulder, he looks almost hurt, like Liam’s going to make out with Niall right there and then, run off with his boyfriend.

Liam detaches himself as quickly as possible, mutters, “I’ve got to go,” before shifting but Niall stops him, a hand on his arm.

“Hey, no, what’s up?”

Turning to look at Zayn, Niall reads something in his eyes and it’s _stupid_ but Liam wants that too, to look in either of their eyes and _know_ what the other is thinking and he wants to leave, now, thank you.

“Zayn said it, didn’t he?” Niall asks.

Liam shakes his head, and tries to feel bad about leaning into Niall’s touch. “Sorry Niall, I. I don’t want to get in between you and Zayn, I just.” He pauses. “I think I should go.”

And he turns to go, but then it’s Zayn with an arm around him, Zayn whose expression has changed over the past few seconds to one that Liam can’t quite decipher.

“You didn’t ask him, then, did you?” And it’s Niall’s voice again, but it’s not making much sense and Liam just sees Zayn shake his head no.

“Christ, I’ve gotta do everything, don’t I?” and it’s jokey, and Liam wants to laugh, but he still doesn’t quite get it, just feels like he’s sobering up too quickly in the wake of his admissions.

“Liam, I- _we_ know how you feel and uh,” Niall scrubs a hand through his hair. “Okay, this is harder than I thought but. Zayn and I have been talking about it and I know it’s not conventional or anythin’ but we wanted to know if you’d, uh. If you wanted to be a part of this.”

And Liam thinks he gets it, knows his body catches up before his mind does, because he’s pressing in then, his lips to Niall’s and that’s not what he expected of the night. He thinks that Zayn’s grip is tightening on his arm, but not threateningly – a reminder, instead, that, yeah, he’s there too.

Niall is throwing himself into the kiss, like it’s a chance to convince Liam that this will work, but Liam’s already sold in the way that Zayn’s pressing himself up against Liam’s back and pressing them both forward into Niall’s touch.

When they break apart from breath, Liam rests his forehead against Niall’s. Breathing in, he says okay, hope they take it for the complete yes it means.

“For real, yeah?” Zayn says against the skin of Liam’s neck and he feels a kiss being pressed there, on the space where Liam knows Zayn’s got a bird on his own neck. The touch of his lips is delicate, like the fine lines of his tattoos, and Liam nods.

“Not just tonight,” he continues. “ _We_ want you too, is what I wanted to say.”

And Liam gets it now, he _does_ , wants to cry with frustration over how much he gets it and can they _please_ get to a room now?

Apparently he’s said that last part out loud, because Niall chuckles, “eager,” pressed into Liam’s mouth through a kiss, and, “my room’s upstairs.”

Liam feels as Zayn backs away, the space between them growing but it’s like his body is still there with the way his skin is flushing red. He feels completely sober now, feels how they _know_ what he’s been thinking, wanting, and want to give it back to him and Liam’s not sure what he did in a past life, but he’s grateful for it anyway.

Zayn leads the way and Liam processes that information, that he knows his steps in the mixed lighting of the house. Around them, the noises of the party still go on and Liam wonders if this is all just too surreal for him.

A hand on his waist steadies him though, and Liam realises that it’s Niall, fingers strong and precise like they’d held on Liam’s guitar. His mind follows that thought with the reminder that Niall has calluses, and the feel of those calluses dragging up Liam’s dick, or on his tongue as he sucks Niall’s fingers in his mouth and he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself here.

The touch is guiding as well, steadying and Liam knows that this isn’t just sexual. That it’s to do with the way Niall will smile, sure and steady, at him. The way that he knows Zayn inside and out, but wants to learn the subtleties of Niall together with Zayn.

He hopes that he fits in here, not like puzzle pieces, because he’s not something missing but-

There’s no analogy for it, Liam thinks. No parallel for the way that he wants to be a part of this relationship. It’s not fair on Zayn or Niall to think that they were incomplete before but Liam wants to think that it’ll be different with him in the mix.

When they get upstairs, the sounds of the party are dulled, and Niall’s hands slip lower on Liam’s body, touch the skin of his hips where it shows between his shirt and his jeans. Liam leans into the touch and they stand there for a minute, soaking in the feeling of it all.

“You guys following?” comes Zayn’s voice, and it breaks the moment, but makes it better somehow, a reminder that there’s more to come.

He’s holding the door to Niall’s room open and Liam thinks that even if this isn’t what he’d expected, it’s certainly something he’ll take.

-

“Hey,” Zayn says when they’re all in the room. Niall’s flicking on some lights and Liam tries to focus on Zayn in front of him, rather than the touches of Niall that surround them in the room.

“Hey,” replies Liam and he smiles. Liam thinks it should be weird, or maybe thinks that he should think it should be weird but it’s neither of those things. Standing in Niall’s room, knowing that he’s watching as Liam walks closer to Zayn, feels right.

Liam wants to run his hands over the smooth of Zayn’s skin, wants to feel his stubble when he kisses Zayn, the scrape of it, and know the way that his skin bruises. He wants Niall to show him how to get Zayn off, wants to learn the ways that Niall’s will get hard, learn the shape of them both in his hands, in his mouth. But when Zayn asks what Liam wants, tries to get an answer as they all make their way to the bed, Liam lets his words slip.

“I wanna watch you,” Liam says. “Wanna see how you and Niall are together.”

And Zayn mutters a _fuck_ at that, moves forward to kiss Liam, press their lips together hard, hands roaming his back. Niall sits back on his heels, works on pulling his shirt off and, fuck, Liam can see him putting his snapback on again, like it’s fucking casual and he wants to laugh because this, this is exactly what he imagined it’d be like.

Niall manages to make this fun, less serious, and Liam thinks that maybe it’s a good thing, because he’s not likely to freak out when Niall’s smiling at him like _that_. He pulls away from Zayn’s kiss, moves so that Niall can move in and take his place, lips moving with Zayn to deepen their kiss, the pale skin of Niall’s torso pressing up against Zayn’s still clothed body.

This close, Liam can see where Niall’s thumbs are slipping under the fabric of Zayn’s shirt, tugging up, and Liam wants to touch there too. It’s a heady rush when he remembers he _can_ , and Liam finds himself sliding up behind Zayn, pulling at the opposite side of his t-shirt, and together, he and Niall work to rid Zayn of his clothes.

When he’s shirtless, Liam can see so much skin, bare and smooth, except where the tattoos mark him up, dark lines running along the curve of muscle, and Liam presses a kiss to the nape of his neck, uses his hands to steady Zayn’s shoulders as he mouths along his shoulders and back. He hears Zayn moan, tears himself away from marking up Zayn’s skin to see that Niall’s got a hand on his own crotch, is rubbing himself off as best he can while still making out with Zayn. Liam’s mouth feels suddenly very dry, makes him lick his lips subconsciously, at the reminder that this is for all of them. That it’s not just Liam.

He reaches out to touch the side of Niall’s waist, something steadying for himself, and he hears Niall breathe out, “yeah.”

“Can I- ” Liam starts to say and Niall interrupts, laughing a little, head leant forward against Zayn’s collarbones and breathing loudly.

“Liam,” he says, voice husky and sharp. “Stop asking, yeah? Jus’. Do.”

Liam takes the words to heart then, works on reaching around Zayn to fumble at Niall’s flies, help tug down the waistband of his jeans and pants and then feels as Zayn shifts to look down between himself and Niall, see Liam’s hands there.

Niall’s hot, skin burning warmer against Liam’s palm, or maybe it’s just his perception, but he’s still pale, skin tinged pink where his flush has spread and Liam wants to say that Niall looks pretty, but it doesn’t seem to fit the way Niall's got a hand around his own dick, lips tucked beneath his teeth as he wanks himself, Zayn and Liam watching.

Liam peels himself away from where he’s been pressed up against Zayn’s back and takes advantage of the pause to strip out of his own clothes, pull his shirt off and shuck his trousers. When he looks up again, both Zayn and Niall have turned their attention to him.

Almost reverentially, Zayn says, “fuck, Li.”

And then he’s reaching out, a hand on the thick of Liam’s waist to pull him closer. “Still want to see you and Niall,” Liam manages to say and Niall smiles brightly, accompanied by a short laugh.

“C’mon Zayn,” Niall says and he shuffles around on his knees, goes to lie up against the headboard, pillows propping him up. “You heard Liam, he wants to see your best moves.”

“Christ,” breathes Zayn and it’s almost as if he’s as overwhelmed as Liam is, doesn’t want to let go of Liam but knows that they all want to see this. Liam’s not sure if it’s voyeuristic of him, or if he's just being appreciative of what's on show, but the shift of Zayn body, smooth lines of movement that cover Niall, draw in his gaze, shift his focus to the visual they've created.

Liam moves so that he’s got a clear view of Zayn, watches as he shimmies out of his jeans, leaning over Niall who’s still stroking himself slowly. Liam can see how wet the tip of his dick is, a bead of precome coming out of the slit and he reaches out to touch, feel the twitch of Niall’s cock in his hand.

“C’mere,” murmurs Niall and Liam does, moves closer and gets the idea when he’s close enough to watch and also for Niall to get a hand on Liam’s dick in return. “Zayn’s taking too long.”

“Hey,” Zayn says with a laugh and Liam matches it, hitched though his breath is.

He _can_ feel the calluses on Niall’s fingers, their drag as he lazily strokes Liam and Liam’s finding himself staring at the way his own fingers slip over Niall’s foreskin, slip under the head to brush teasingly at the sensitive skin and down the vein on Niall’s shaft.

Zayn’s gotten all his clothes off now and Liam spares him a glance to catalogue the shift of his skin, the way that the tattoos sit at the dip of his hips, over bone and muscle. His dick is hard and smooth and slim and Liam can already see the way that Niall’s fingers could wrap around his shaft, bring him off with swift jerks and a bit of spit to smooth the way.

He turns back to Niall though, finds that he’s stopped jerking Liam off in favour of shoving a hand underneath his pillow and grabbing the lube that’s apparently stored there. Liam raises an eyebrow, as if to ask really, and Niall matches it with a cheeky smile of his own.

“’m lazy,” Niall says and it’s apparently a cue because Zayn stops preening and grabs the lube from Niall, quickly slicking up his fingers.

“Here,” Zayn says and he tosses the tube to Liam. “So you can, y’know.”

Niall laughs. “Jerk off, he means. You can say it, yeah? Pretty sure Liam’s jerked off over this before.”

It’s true, they all know it, and Liam can feel the blush spreading across his cheeks but neither is paying him much mind since Zayn’s fingers have made their way to Niall’s arse, slipping between his cheeks to stroke over his hole.

Liam can see it, the way that Niall’s arching into Zayn’s touch, the slick that Zayn’s rubbing against his rim until Niall relaxes enough to let the tip of his finger in. He watches the press of one finger into Niall, then two and by the time Zayn’s worked three fingers into Niall, Niall’s writhing back onto them and Liam’s got a hand around his dick, the other moving down to stroke over his own hole, dip lightly in to give himself a taste of what Niall’s feeling.

“Bloody hell,” Niall says and it sounds so ridiculously _him_  that Liam bursts out laughing, feels absurd until Zayn joins in too, and Niall only doesn’t because the laughter jolts him, Liam can almost see the way he tightens around Zayn’s fingers and definitely notices how Niall squeezes himself, staving off his need to come.

“Just. C’mon,” Niall manages to say and Zayn nods, pulls his fingers out of Niall with an obscene sound and looks around. Liam realises what it is he needs, spots a condom on the bedside table and shows it to Zayn, questioningly.

“Yeah,” he says.

Liam tears open the packet, rolls the condom over Zayn’s dick and barely resists stroking him much more. As it is, Zayn bucks into his touch and Liam finds himself leaning forward to kiss Zayn again, deeper this time, tongue fucking into Zayn’s mouth like Zayn moves into his grip.

“Keep a guy waiting,” Niall complains and Zayn laughs against the kiss, pulls away but not before nipping at Liam’s bottom lip.

“Patience,” Zayn says with a smirk and moves to fit his dick against Niall’s hole.

“I meant Liam, y- you idiot,” retorts Niall, voice stuttering when Zayn makes the first press, the head of his dick working its way past Niall’s rim. “Fuck, Liam, come here and kiss me.”

It’s not like Liam can refuse that and he moves in close, until Niall all but drags him to an open mouthed kiss. He can feel Niall moaning, swallows the sounds he makes as Zayn slides in deeper and it’s that, the feedback of Zayn getting Niall off that’s getting Liam off. They move in sync, Liam batting Niall’s hand away from his own dick and moving it to his own, stroking the other off in time with Zayn’s thrusts. The kisses slow and speed up accordingly and Liam can feel the rough of Niall’s braces, the way that he doesn’t press too hard into the kisses with his teeth, is instead all lips and tongue.

When they break for breath, Liam looks down, and sees the stretch of Niall around Zayn’s dick, hard and dark and it’s _hot_ and he remembers why he wanted to watch. When he looks back up, he catches Zayn’s eye, the look in it that says that he wants Liam to like this as much as either of them, and Liam remembers why he wanted to be here. Pressing a kiss to Zayn’s shoulder, over the tattoo, he smiles back up at Zayn and then turns his attention back to Niall, never pausing in the way that they touch. Liam wants this, the quick snap of Zayn’s hips as he fucks into Niall, Niall’s hands on him, and the press of skin against skin, feeling as much a part of this as either of them and knowing that he only has to ask and they’d do the same to him.

-

“Fuck,” Liam breathes out and it’s a pretty good summary of what’s just happened. More than that, though, it’s all that’s running through his mind right now, what with how Niall’s not stopped stroking along the bones of his spine since he’d flopped back down onto the bed.

It’s soothing and sweet and when Niall’s fingers threaten to move further down the line of his back, Liam simply arches up into the touch, cat-like, almost, and Niall’s fingers slip back down to stroke around his hip.

To his left, Zayn’s pretty much lost to the world, curled facing in to Liam and Niall. He’s got one arm brushing Liam’s shoulder and his eyes mostly shut, lashes brushing against his cheeks.

“’s always like that, after,” Niall says softly and it’s fond. “You’re pretty useless too.”

Liam wants to protest but it’s true, Niall being the one to grab a washcloth and wipe the three of them up. It’s just that Liam had wanted it, the physical aspect, but he had needed the aftermath, to know that he fits in this. Knows that his lazy touches mean as much as Zayn’s breathing, light on his skin, Niall’s constant need for movement and contact.

It’s validation, and acceptance, and being an equal part of it all.

“Yeah,” Liam concedes. “But you’ll have me anyway.”

“ _You’ll_ have us,” Niall corrects and his fingers stop moving, rest on Liam’s shoulder next to Zayn’s, a sure reminder that Liam does have them both.


End file.
